


The Greatest Happiness on Earth (is sitting between Potter’s legs)

by Samyiswriting



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A few implied relationships but only implied because Harry is oblivious af, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Bisexual Harry Potter, Bottom Draco Malfoy, But make it power bottom, Consent is everything, Draco Malfoy Has Long Hair, Draco is an excellent rider AND artsy, Draco is so hot Harry forgets how to function, Drarry gets to flirt and it's a bit awkward but mostly cute, Falling hard and fast, Feel-good, Fluff, FtM Draco Malfoy, Get ready for SOME smut spoilers, Handjobs/fingering, Harry plays the guitar, Horse riding holidays, Just lots of horses and riding lessons, Love at First Sight, M/M, More like Hurt/Comfort, Muggle AU, Oral Sex, POC Harry Potter, Rimming, Ron and Harry have the best bromance, SO MUCH FLUFF, Smut, Top Harry Potter, Trans Draco Malfoy, Vaginal Sex, kinda at least - Freeform, like a lot of it, the tiniest bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 77,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25931632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samyiswriting/pseuds/Samyiswriting
Summary: Summer, sun, horse-riding holidays! When Harry started his summer holidays, he would have never expected his world to turn upside down - and all because of a snooty blond.Or:Just another silly little story about two young men who fall in love in absolutely every possible universe. Even while they're on a horseback and not waving their wands at each other. In a guest role: Harry's obsession with blond hair.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 119
Kudos: 369





	1. The Upheaval of the Future

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome! Ahhhh I'm so FUCKING VERY much looking forward to present you... this! "This" is a pure feel-good fanfiction, which means FLUFF, FLUFF and even more FLUFF. I needed ~something~ to do during the Corona lockdown, so I decided to go for some soppy Drarry kitsch. With Smut. A great deal of Smut by my standards, so be warned.  
> I LOVED writing this story and I hope I can sweeten your days a little bit with some Drarry.
> 
> This is a translation of my German Fanfiction "Das Glück dieser Erde (liegt in Potters Schoß)" you can find it on fanfiktion.de (solltest du eine deutsche Kartoffel sein, würde ich dir wirklich ans Herz legen, die deutsche Version zu lesen, mitunter weil dort schon mehr Kapitel hochgeladen wurden^^).
> 
> Last but not least: THANK YOU LARNI! She made sure that this is even English (as always) and helped the story a great deal <3 You're the best and I can't thank you enough!

In a world where magic does not exist, Harry Potter is just an ordinary boy. An ordinary boy who lives an ordinary life, attends an ordinary school, has ordinary friends, went through an ordinary puberty and awaits an ordinary future.

Harry had nothing against ordinariness per se, except that he abhorred everything out of pure stubbornness, which the Dursleys glorified. So he lived as little ordinary as it was possible for a non-magical young man. But despite the fact that he genuinely tried to avoid being pulled along with the mainstream, Harry's life was frighteningly ordinary. Ordinary in a good way; Harry would’ve never really complained about it.

After all, he didn't know there was so much more waiting for him. That the future didn’t foresee the ordinariness for him after all, in which Harry had somehow lost himself. He’d find out soon. One summer, two weeks, one young man. That was all it would take to turn his life upside down.

But let's start at the beginning: It all began on a warm summer's day in southern Wiltshire, England. The sun burned mercilessly down on the little-used road, but the cool wind made the heat seem bearable. It was the perfect day, the meadows bloomed in a rich green and yellow, the freshly harvested corn fields lay like brown splashes of paint in between and completed the picture flawlessly. The sky was bluer than it had been for a long time, not a cloud was visible far and wide.

The honking of a car sounded and tore Harry out of his wandering thoughts. The old, blue car, a Ford Anglia to be precise, was speeding past Harry with a few unhealthy exhaust pipe noises. Through one of the rolled down windows, a red shock of hair appeared, paired with a broad grin and a freckled nose.

"I told you we'd overtake you! Floor the car, Ron!" Ginny yelled and waved happily before she disappeared back inside the car and the Ford finally overtook Harry.

Harry just laughed, considered for a moment whether he should accept the challenge of a little race, but then the longed-for turnoff appeared in his field of vision and Ron turned on the indicator in front of him.

Following the Ford, Harry drove his scooter past a sign, which announced in large letters the "Weeping Willow Farmstead". Harry's grin broadened as the announced farm appeared in his view and he passed the farm gate at throttled speed.

Horse-riding holidays. For two weeks. Even though Harry was clueless when it came to horses. Well, that was bound to be fun.

The Weeping Willow Farmstead was huge. There wasn’t a more fitting word for it. The open front gate led straight into the spacious courtyard. To his left, Harry could make out some sort of riding arena, and to his right was a medium-sized parking place where the Weasleys' blue car was just coming to a stop. Harry followed and parked his scooter right next to it.

"Harry Potter, also known as _The Snail_!" Ginny smirked as she got out of the car. Molly Weasley, mother of Ron and Ginny, just opened the passenger door and gave Ginny a withering look that silenced the young woman. The fact that Ginny’s pestering possibly motivated Harry to speed went against the grain of the round woman. That Harry even owned a scooter and was allowed to ride it was only thanks to Sirius and his impressive power for persuasion. So instead of continuing to annoy Harry, Ginny and her mother set about unloading their luggage.

Harry got off his scooter and looked around curiously. Ginny hadn’t exaggerated; the equestrian farm was beautiful. There was a huge weeping willow in the middle of the courtyard, which probably gave the farm its name. The farm was an ensemble of a huge guesthouse, which stood in the middle directly behind the weeping willow, the house of the Longbottom family, which was located only a little bit to the side of the guesthouse, several stables on the other side of the guesthouse, a riding hall, close to the parking place and the already mentioned riding arena. The farm was well-kept and yet rustic. Harry felt at home right away.

"Shit, this is huge," exclaimed Ron, who had finally gotten out of the car, shielded his eyes from the sunlight with one hand and looked around in awe.

"And that's not even all. Behind the guesthouse, there are still the fields and a barn," Ginny grinned but then stopped abruptly. "I think that’s Luna! I'll be right back!" And the redhead disappeared in the direction of the guesthouse.

"Typical Ginny. Runs away so she doesn't have to help," complained Ron annoyed and began to help his mother unload the trunk.

Harry was about to help out as well, after all, the Weasleys had kindly transported Harry's luggage and his guitar when he noticed two figures leaving the riding hall and quite obviously arguing. Harry set his helmet on his scooter and stepped a little closer to the fence of the parking place to get a better view of the two.

They seemed to be about the same age as Harry. One of them had blond, long hair tied in a tight bun at the back of his neck. He was pale, slim and wearing riding gear that looked like it had cost a fortune. He led a black horse by the reins beside him but paid no further attention to it. Instead, he had a go at the young man next to him. He was tall, had dark skin and hair, distinctive features, and looked as unimpressed as one could master when being snarled at.

There is not really a precept of what a person should feel when they encounter the reason for an upheaval in their own future. It's not _nothing_ , Harry definitely felt _something_ , even if he couldn't name it at that point. But it wasn’t fireworks that suddenly set off either. It was more of an _oh_. Him? _Him_! Whatever that means...

" _Longbottom_? Seriously _Longbottom_? You've lost your _mind_ ," exclaimed the blond, aka _him,_ the two men were now within earshot.

The man he was talking to just shrugged his shoulders. "Neville is not bad company. No offence, Draco, but your ambition is a little too unhealthy for me. Besides, the teams have already been assigned, so it's not _my_ fault we're not on the same team."

The blond, _Draco_ , glared angrily at the taller one. "If I get Parkinson's because of you, _I'm going to murder you_." And with that, he turned abruptly and headed for the stables. He led the horse with him.

First impressions are strange. They are strange, even if no one is threatened with murder. But they're definitely stranger when someone _is_ threatened with murder. So it's probably wise to never threaten anyone with anything, but it wasn't as if Draco was interested in what people thought of him. 

"What's so interesting?" Harry spun around in shock to Ron, who joined Harry at the fence.

"Nothing. Just..." Harry paused. The dark-haired young man had noticed them, raised his hand in greeting and then disappeared in the direction of the guesthouse. "Did Ginny mention anything about teams?" 

~

"It's no big deal! Most of us don't take the competition seriously anyway!" Ginny sounded as if she couldn't understand why Ron and Harry looked so abashed.

"Exactly. Ginny's right. The competition is all for fun and not to put you under pressure," Mrs Longbottom confirmed Ginny's words, smiling encouragingly at Harry and Ron.

Mrs Longbottom was a friendly middle-aged woman with brown hair and a round face. As the owner of Weeping Willow Farmstead, she personally looked after new guests, including Harry and Ron. Ginny had already spent two weeks of her summer holidays here last year and had managed, God knows how to sign up her brother and his best friend for this year as well.

"The competition isn’t the problem. There was talk of teams...?" Harry followed up, shifting restlessly on his chair in the guesthouse's office. He could imagine better things than competing in a sport he didn't know anything about.

"Yes, quite so," Mrs Longbottom began, while she received the entry forms of the three across her desk. "You will be divided into teams of two and you will try to score points with your teammate. The team with the highest score at the end of the two weeks will win. But I will explain this in more detail when everyone has arrived. Any questions?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. "Does that mean Harry and I are in a team?"

Mrs Longbottom smiled politely. "No. Since you both have no experience with horses, I thought it’d be wiser to pair you with our experienced riders. Just a moment -" The woman typed something on the computer keyboard before continuing. "I see! Mr Weasley or Ronald, if I may be so bold, you'll be working in tandem with Hermione Granger. Harry, your teammate is Draco Malfoy."

Ginny snorted on her chair but said nothing. Harry frowned. He knew Hermione from primary school and although they hadn't been in close contact since he had transferred to a boarding school, at least he knew she was nice. So Ginny's reaction must have had something to do with his team partner. Harry cleared his throat. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Blond, long hair. You'll _recognise_ him when you see him," Ginny interjected helpfully.

Harry considered mentioning that he had already made half an acquaintance with Draco when there was a knock at the door and it flew open before anyone could invite the stranger in. A young man with long blond hair appeared. His hair was now tied at his neck much more loosely than it had been a short time ago. He looked stressed and surprised at the many visitors in the office.

"Speak of the devil!" Ginny grinned amusedly at Draco, who returned the look with a good portion of resentment and an eye roll.

"Weasley. You’re here, too." Draco's gaze wandered over Ron, caught hold of Harry for a moment, then found its way to Mrs Longbottom. "I'll take anyone! _Anyone_! But please not Parkinson! Or Granger... Oh Lord, not _Granger_.”

Mrs Longbottom's face cleared up immediately. "I can put your mind at rest, Draco. Your teammate will be Mr Harry Potter here." She thus effusively pointed to Harry, who made every effort not to blush under the blond bloke's piercing gaze.

"Newbies?", Draco asked slowly with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep. My brother Ron," Ron raised his hand in salute at the mention of his name. "And Harry. His best friend," Ginny introduced them.

"We don't have new ones often," Draco began, eyeing Harry. "Why do I get Potter and not the Weasley brother?" The question Draco asked directed at Mrs Longbottom.

She blinked a few times too quickly as if she needed to gather herself. "Is that… a problem for you?"

Draco's gaze met Harry's again, then he looked at Ron. "No, that works fine. I want whoever has more muscle."

Ginny snorted while Ron gasped in indignation. Harry bit his tongue so as not to laugh. "Very flattering, really. Did you hear that, Ron? I'm more muscular than you."

"Shut it! I'm almost a whole head taller than –"

" – Muscles, because then he can make himself useful for mucking out," Draco interrupted the banter with a decidedly bored expression. Ginny nodded at Draco appreciatively, as if that was a good argument indeed.

Ron threw a triumphant glance at Harry. "Did you hear _that_ , Harry? Your muscles are useful for picking up horse _shi_ –"

" _Thank you_ , Ronald. Draco, I beg you to treat our newcomers with respect," Mrs Longbottom interrupted.

"Of course, Mrs. Longbottom," uttered Draco coldly, before he cleared his throat and turned to Harry. "Upstairs, on the left. It's the first door on the right. You'll find our room there."

Harry's jaw dropped open. " _Our_ room?"

"Oh right! You'll share a room with your teammate," Mrs Longbottom explained. "The rooms are all on the first floor. Ronald, yours is down the hallway to the left, so you're almost neighbours."

"Wait, hold on, I'm sharing a room with a _girl_?" Ron asked, exchanging a panicked look with Harry, who continued to look fascinated at Draco. He leaned in the doorway but kept glancing nervously down the hallway.

"Well, _girl_ doesn't quite fit. You are all of age! However, if that should be a problem for you, we can arrange another teammate for you." Mrs Longbottom looked expectantly at Ron, who once again looked panicked at Harry.

"Don't freak out, Ron. Hermione is a good egg," Harry encouraged his best friend with a knowing grin on his lips. Hermione matched Ron’s taste precisely, he would act like the biggest idiot. This could only be fun.

" _Draco!_ " A girl's shrill voice echoed, and as if on cue, Draco flinched.

"Fuck."

"Draco, _language_ please!" Mrs Longbottom admonished, but Draco had already disappeared and closed the door behind him. So she smiled kindly at the three of them. "I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun here. Go and unpack your things, and I'll meet you all in the dining hall in two hours." 

~

"Have you noticed that your room is much bigger than mine," Ron asked, dropping his travel bag onto one of the two beds, which stood against opposite walls.

Harry shrugged. "But you have this _thing_.” He pointed to a round protrusion in one corner of the room and walked towards it. The view was nice, he could see the stables and a place where horses were racked up and combed.

"This _thing_ is called a bay window,” said a girl's voice behind Harry.

Surprised, Harry turned around and looked first at brown wild curls framing a pretty face. "Hermione!" Not a second later, Harry was already hugging his old friend. "Still as big a smart-ass as ever!"

Hermione laughed and pulled away from the hug. "I've missed you, too, Harry!" She eyed him for a moment. "You've grown up!"

Harry snorted. He was definitely bigger than when he was ten. "Thank you. I'm fighting for every centimetre.” Harry gestured to Ron, who was standing a little bit helpless next to his bed. "Hermione, this is Ron. Ron, Hermione."

Because Harry could almost feel the tension, he turned back to the bay windows and gave them a moment to introduce themselves.

The courtyard had become more crowded. Most of the faces were unknown to Harry; some carried bags to the entrance of the guesthouse, others gave each other a warm welcome. Ginny was standing with Luna and two young men who had just arrived. Harry knew Luna Lovegood only briefly and only because Ginny had brought her to London once and they had had ice cream together. He had thought she was a bit strange, but at least as nice, so he didn't mind.

Near the stables, Harry recognised blond hair. Draco Malfoy, who fled with big steps from a girl with shoulder-length black hair. He seemed... nice? Harry smiled to himself. Draco didn't seem to be somebody’s fool and besides, he was rather pretty to look at. The first impression had perhaps been a little mixed, but there was no reason to be concerned. Draco Malfoy was surely a nice man. Yes, definitely.

~

Draco Malfoy wasn’t _nice_. At least it wasn't _the_ adjective one would use when one was forced to find words that fit his personality.

Harry came to this conclusion sometime later when he went into the dining hall with Ron and Hermione (who by now had gotten along splendidly and made it their business to exchange embarrassing stories about Harry). The dining hall was truly a _hall_ ; with a high ceiling and huge windows. There were several tables scattered throughout the room where everyone could find their place. In total there were no more than twelve participants, but the volume of conversation was enormous. Harry tried his best to remember the new names and faces. Ginny introduced him and Ron to the others in record time.

There was Neville, he was Mrs And Mr Longbottom's son, but he prided himself on it rather less than more. He seemed friendly, a little shy, but nice. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were the two young men Ginny and Luna had been talking to in the courtyard. They were one of the reasons for the noise in the room, but not in an unpleasant way. They laughed a lot, had an unhealthy number of insiders and were absolutely inseparable. Harry wouldn’t have been surprised if the two of them went to the bathroom together. The young man who had been talking to Draco in the courtyard introduced himself as Blaise Zabini. He smiled a lot but left it at politeness rather than cordiality. Harry didn’t mind. Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson didn’t introduce themselves personally, but at least nodded politely. Theo seemed a bit stiff and silent, Pansy, the young woman with the black hair, on the other hand, was _a lot_. She talked _a lot_ , thought little and didn't mind at all if she stepped on someone's toes because of it.

And then there was Draco. The not-so-nice _fucking_ Draco. Draco, who hadn't said a sentence until now in which he _hadn't_ made snide remarks about someone or something (to be fair, his snide remarks mostly hit Pansy, who took it rather calmly. The two seemed to be amazingly good friends). Draco, who paid no further attention to Harry, as if they weren’t _forced_ to live in one room, and Draco, who was apparently the biggest snob one could imagine. At least that's what everyone said. Well, they didn't really _say_ it, but they made it perfectly clear.

"Oh, you're teamed up with Draco? That’s – Okay. He'll thaw out, don't worry..." Neville had helpfully remarked.

"Draco? Fuck, you're _screwed_! No offence, but he's... you know," Seamus had contributed.

"Ah, you and Draco. I've heard about that already. Draco is... an excellent equestrian. I'm sure you'll learn a lot," Blaise had said on the subject.

Draco's reputation preceded him. And Harry was not sure what to make of it.

But he wasn’t allowed to think about it any further, as Mrs Longbottom entered the room and the group immediately became quiet. She radiated a sympathetic authority and had no difficulty in attracting the attention of all twelve participants. In addition, all of them were probably in joyful anticipation of what was to come.

"I’m very happy to see you all again! You’ll find out that we have a few surprises planned this year that you’ll enjoy! Neville, don't you dare give them away," Mrs Longbottom began, giving Neville a teasing look. The chubby young man flushed but rolled his eyes. Blaise, who sat beside him, nudged him in the side with his elbow and laughed softly. "It's always a pleasure to welcome you all back each year and I'm especially pleased to introduce two new participants."

Curious glances were thrown at Ron and Harry. Harry, who was sitting at a table between Hermione and Ron opposite Seamus and Dean, exchanged an amused look with Ron. "Harry and Ronald are here for the first time this year, so be fair and help them to settle in well," said Mrs Longbottom, before she crossed the room and came to a halt beside a whiteboard, which stood on an easel in a corner of the room. There were some rules written on it that Harry couldn't read.

"Most of you know the rules of the competition, but a refresh of your memory can't hurt, so read them again carefully! I don't want any slip-ups this year, understand?" Mrs Longbottom looked over at Draco's table. There Pansy giggled and leaned over to whisper something in Draco's ear.

"The teams of two have already been divided, should there be any complaints, my office door is always open to you. Your team will collect points over the next two weeks, we call them horseshoes, which will be credited to you for additional activities on the farm, success in riding lessons or winning equestrian games. The team that has achieved the most points at the end of the week wins. We have put together a variation of prizes: A few vouchers for equestrian shops, free lessons on our farm, as always a lot of sweets and of course the trophy you get to keep!

Nevertheless, the next two weeks are all about _fun_ ! I want to see great teamwork, a fair competition and many successes on your four-legged friends! So make an effort and have _fun,_ " Mrs Longbottom finished her speech and smiled at them.

"Will the riding tournament take place again?", Pansy asked after raising her hand briefly.

Mrs Longbottom nodded. "Since our little Pony-Olympics went down so well with you last year, we're going to repeat it this year on the last Saturday. We have already planned the days before as preparation time, so you don't have to use your free time for it. Meaning the training for the Olympics is part of the daily schedule, as you requested!”

A murmur of approval resounded from the tables.

"What about the ponies? Will they be reassigned too?" asked Seamus, as soon as the murmur subsided.

"Oh, of course. Thank you, Seamus. To Harry and Ronald, this is an all-Icelandic-horse-farm. You will each be allocated a pony to look after for the next two weeks. And yes, they are already assigned and as always adapted to your riding level. You'll find the list in the stables and there you can get acquainted with the ponies right away," Mrs Longbottom explained, and as soon as she had finished, the group started moving. Harry followed in the footsteps of the other participants and also got up to leave the room.

"If you have any questions, ask your teammate or me," Mrs Longbottom called after them.

"Where are we going?" whispered Ron to Harry, who followed the others through the entrance hall of the guesthouse and headed for the exit. The others chattered excitedly, already speculating about which pony they had been assigned.

"I think, to the stable," Harry replied and was to be proved right. The group, led by Draco, Pansy and Theo, walked along a gravel path, past the large weeping willow towards the stables.

The stables were divided into two sectors. The smaller one was for the stallions, as Hermione explained to them. The larger one was for the mares and geldings ("Geldings are castrated stallions, have you ever dealt with the subject 'horse' before, Ronald?"). Here, two or three ponies shared a stall and a small paddock.

At the entrance of the mare-and-gelding stable, the list of the assigned horses was attached to a small notice board. Harry didn’t even attempt to find his name. To push past eleven other participants, some of them much bigger than him, was simply a Mission Impossible for him. Instead, he looked around the stable.

It was pretty, the outer walls were made of a reddish wood, the stalls were divided with the same wood. The stone floor in the middle led straight to a high dark wooden door, behind which was the beginning of the stallion's stable. To the right and left of the stable alley the stalls extended, surprisingly large for the rather small four-legged animals. The upper part of the stall doors was decorated with curved iron grids, which gave the stable a noble ambience. It smelled of hay, straw and spicy wood.

"Hetja."

Startled, Harry winced and turned to Draco, who smiled at him with amusement.

"What?"

"Your pony. Her name is Hetja," Draco explained and walked past Harry along the stable alley. Harry followed him reluctantly. "She's well-behaved, a bit stubborn sometimes, but nothing that can't be handled."

Harry glanced attentively at Draco's profile. The blond had stopped in front of a stall and pushed the latch of the sliding gate aside so they could enter. Inside the stall was only one pony at the moment. It had a reddish coat and a long mane that was just as red. Harry walked a few steps towards Hetja and stroked her gently across her fluffy neck. The mare snorted softly and nudged Harry with her nose.

Harry raised his head and grinned happily at Draco. "I think she likes me."

Draco folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head slightly as he watched Hetja's reaction to Harry. One of the blond wisps came loose from his bun and fell in his face. "It seems so. And she gets on well with Andvari, my pony. That's good in case we have to go for a ride together."

Harry looked again into the dark eyes of his pony and gently stroked her nostrils. "She is so... pretty."

"How long have you been riding, Potter?" asked Draco, his gaze fixed on Harry.

Harry frowned, tracing the little white star on Hetja's forehead with his finger. "Not at all, to be honest. And you can call me Harry."

When Draco didn't answer immediately, Harry raised his head. The blond stared at him, his forehead wrinkled, his eyebrows furrowed, his jaw clenched, only the slightly pushed forward lower lip made the cramped expression somewhat cute. "Not at all," he repeated slowly. "Not even a bit?"

Harry smiled. "That's why they put us in a team. I hear you're a good rid –"

"I'm better than _good_ ," Draco interrupted him gruffly. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to miss out on a victory just because Mrs Longbottom thinks she has to hire me as your babysitter. This isn't a charity organization."

Harry's jaw dropped open in surprise. "l –"

"What about the Weasley brother? Can he ride?" asked Draco, arms still crossed.

"Ron? No, not that I know of. But –"

"That means they made Granger a babysitter as well?" Draco looked indistinctly into the air in front of him and seemed amused. "That has a sweet taste to it."

Harry stared at Draco, stunned. Sweet taste? Was that bloke _gloating_? And at the same time a big fucking arsehole? " _Babysitter_? Are you serious?"

Draco raised one eyebrow and looked at Harry critically. He opened his mouth, but instead of saying anything, he just took a deep breath, closed his eyes and put his head back for a moment. "No. No, I’m not. That's all –" he faltered. "Unexpected. Just unexpected. We're going to win this competition anyway. Hell, I could beat the other teams _by myself_ , so it doesn't matter."

Harry frowned. Was that an attempt at an apology? If it was, it was catastrophic. There seemed to be some truth to Draco's reputation and Harry didn't like it. He wasn’t in the mood for weird fights and he would definitely not put up with a spoiled blond. He didn't have to. This was supposed to be two fun weeks with his friends, drama was out of place.

Harry was ready to tell Draco, give him a warning and end the drama early. But something stopped him. Something in those grey eyes, twinkling at him expectantly, had an effect on him that surprised him more than a little. Curiosity. Draco Malfoy awakened his _curiosity_.

The thing about the upheaval of the future is this: Harry doesn't know about it. How could he? He doesn't know what we know. He doesn't know that this person will one day drive him mad but in the best possible way. He only knows what he's seen and heard about Draco. And that, in fairness, is not entirely positive. So understand that Harry can't help but be sceptical. But what's the difference between an ordinary meeting and meeting Draco then?

The little _oh._ Him? _Him_! Coupled with the feeling, Harry just named. Curiosity. Curiosity stronger than the warnings the universe supposedly tried to give him. They're not warnings, they're _signs_. But Harry didn't know that at the time.

Perhaps it would have been better for Harry to ask for a new teammate or to rebuke Draco, but he did nothing of the sort. Instead, he just grinned at the man. "I've already heard you're ambitious."

Draco frowned, clearly surprised at Harry's relaxed reaction. "Nothing that's beyond the no –"

"Holy shit, Harry, is that yours? She's so cute!" Ron's face appeared behind the bars of the stall, next to him Hermione, giving them prying looks.

Harry watched Draco for a moment longer before he answered. The blond no longer seemed tense. Rather, he seemed relaxed. Perhaps Harry's way of dealing with Draco hadn't been so wrong. The hint of a smile that appeared on his lips only made Harry more curious. Whatever Draco was like, Harry was determined to find out. 

~

Harry wasn’t a superficial person. If anything, he was reluctant to be superficial. The fact that not all people saw this, in the same way, was something Harry had had to learn in the most unpleasant way. _Children_ , they had only been children. And yet, every comment had had its effect. But what could one expect from children? All it took was a pair of glasses on his nose to be teased. A pale scar on his golden-brown forehead only made it worse. Not that Harry was ashamed of it. No, it just confirmed him that superficialities were ridiculously fleeting.

So why the hell had Harry been staring at the back of a blond head for five minutes now and for the life of him couldn’t find the strength to take his eyes off it? Harry didn't think it was _wrong_ to find another person _beautiful_ or _attractive_. But his stare definitely had something perfidious. Actually, thinking about it, it wasn't the staring that was the problem, but the absolutely incomprehensible _reason_ for his staring.

Draco Malfoy stood in front of the mirror in their shared bathroom and braided his hair.

Actually, it should be nothing special. Actually, it _was_ nothing special, but Harry sat on the small sofa that was placed opposite the bathroom door under a large window in their room and watched Draco as if he was holding the eighth wonder of the world in his hands.

After all the participants had greeted their ponies sufficiently and devotedly, they had returned to the dining hall for dinner. Afterwards, some had gone to their rooms to unpack or _whatever_. However, most of them had met in a lounge not far from the dining hall and had played table football, cards or chess. So had Harry and Ron. The evening had been nice, the atmosphere relaxed.

Harry had hardly spoken to Draco that evening, it had been pure coincidence that they had retired to their room almost at the same time. Draco had claimed the "better" bed (there was nothing better about it, it just stood further away from the door. But Draco insisted that in the event of an attempted assassination, Harry should serve as a living shield and was therefore correctly positioned closer to the door) and then started to unpack. He had also changed into light blue silk trousers and a white sleeping shirt, which again looked as if Draco had bought it completely overpriced. Harry had followed his bedtime routine in the bathroom and had also unpacked his travel bag afterwards. And now he was sitting on the small lilac sofa, wondering what must be wrong with a human that he was so fascinated by hair.

Admittedly, Draco cherished his hair with a devotion that couldn't be entirely ordinary either. First, he had brushed it, with two different hairbrushes, then he had kneaded probably four different products into the tips, and now he was about to braid a loose French braid. Draco stood a little turned away from Harry and watched the process in the mirror. Harry didn’t even question what the point was if he couldn't see what his fingers were doing. Draco held a small hair tie between his teeth, which he took in his hand after finishing the braiding and tied around the end of the braid. Satisfied, Draco took another triumphant look in the mirror, then turned in Harry's direction to leave the bathroom and noticed Harry's staring immediately.

That would probably have been the right moment for Harry to _turn away_ and at least pretend to _actually_ be reading the magazine lying openly on his lap. Instead, he just kept staring at Draco as if _he_ was the eighth wonder of the world.

Draco's hair was long, but not long enough to stay in such a loose braid. A few strands already came loose and fell into Draco's face. Harry felt a sudden urge, but he pushed far away in an instant. Enough was enough. Looking and touching were two _very_ different things!

"May I help you with something, Potter?" Draco asked, leaning far too casually against the bathroom door frame. It almost seemed as if it wasn't news to him to be stared at with fascination.

"Uh, no," Harry replied eloquently as ever and actually averted his gaze. But only for a moment, then he looked back at Draco. "Is that your thing? Calling people by their last name?"

Draco raised an eyebrow as if Harry had said something rude. He was just curious, really. He'd noticed Draco wasn't on first-name terms with anyone on the farm, apart from the ponies. _Do ponies even have last names?_

"Possibly," Draco responded calmly. He pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to his bed. "Is it your thing to stare at people without asking?"

Harry bit his lip to hide his emerging grin. He could hardly admit it had never happened to him before. Actually, it was just surprising that Draco didn't really seem to mind. "Would that make it better? If I asked first?"

Draco snorted, giving Harry a look that made any " _seriously_?" superfluous. Then he slipped under his blanket and made himself comfortable. The fact that Harry kept watching him was only playing into Draco’s hands, they both knew that. "I'd be much obliged if you didn't snore tonight. If you do, I won't guarantee anything. You were the one who pressed the pillow on your face." And with that, Draco turned in his bed, away from Harry. 

Two threats of murder in one day? It seemed Harry had gotten _lucky_ with his roommate. But who was he to complain about a little risk? 

~

Harry's alarm clock went off at seven on the dot. Exactly 30 seconds later Harry's head was bombarded with a pillow and somewhere a half-asleep voice mumbled, telling him to turn the damn thing off. Harry groped around on his bed stand for five seconds until he succeeded and the beeping disappeared. With a groan, he rubbed his eyes.

Fucking horse-riding holidays. No one had warned him about getting up early.

But he couldn’t do anything about it now so Harry got up. Drowsy he wandered across the dimly lit room, changed into fresh clothes, brushed his teeth and tried to tame his hair. But he quickly gave up the idea and went to the door instead. One last look he threw to Draco.

The blond was peacefully asleep again, _of course_. Harry hadn't expected Draco to do _anything_ before breakfast, but somehow it didn't bother him either. Draco looked quite peaceful just sleeping. Harry hurried into the hallway and to the entrance area of the guesthouse. Ron and Seamus were already waiting for him there.

The three of them weren’t the only ones who went to the stable so early in the morning to feed their horses. It looked as if at least one of each team had gotten up to collect the easily earned points. Five horseshoes for feeding their own ponies. And ten more horseshoes for helping the farmworker Mr Hagrid muck out.

Mr Hagrid, who insisted on being called simply Hagrid, was a large man with a big beard and that twinkle in his eye which immediately told them that he must be a faithful soul. He showed Harry and Ron exactly what food their ponies were being fed and explained to them what the consequences of overfeeding concentrate or hay would be. Harry was clearly too tired to listen closely, but he was still grateful for Hagrid's presence. At least he didn't have to confess to Ron that he was possibly in the process of developing a fetish for blond hair.

After about an hour Ron and Harry finished their work and went to the much-longed-for breakfast with the others. The dining hall was already prepared with fruit, bread, spreads, muesli and pancakes that were ready on the respective tables. Draco (the braid had disappeared, but the bun at the neck from the day before was there again) and Blaise were already sitting at a table and eating, Harry didn't hesitate to grab Ron by the sleeve and sit down at the same table. With a groan Harry stretched his exhausted limbs while Ron started to load his plate with pancakes, saving the morning greeting. Draco and Blaise just kept talking, something about horses and Iceland. Or was it about Icelandic horses? Oh, it didn't sound that interesting either way.

After breakfast, the daily schedule, which was attached to the whiteboard next to the rules, was examined. In the morning, they were all supposed to ride on their own and thus get to know their ponies. Only after lunch, there was a riding lesson given by Ms Vector, that was all that was on the agenda for today. 

~

"By you saying you never rode a horse, you mean you don't know about all the rest of it either, right?" Draco asked Harry when they were on their way to the stables less than fifteen minutes later. Ron was still waiting in the dining hall for Hermione, who had come later for breakfast, but Draco had insisted on going ahead.

"That depends on what you mean by 'the rest’. I was quite successful at feeding and mucking out," Harry replied, looking at Draco's profile as he walked. The blond was once again wearing clothes that looked far too expensive. Weren't jodhpurs somehow there to get dirty? Harry gave up trying to make sense of wearing expensive clothes.

"Yes, I can smell it," uttered Draco, who scrunched his nose and stubbornly looked straight ahead at the gravel path.

"Hey! Your Highness and the Pea ought to be thanking me. I got up and earned us a whole twenty horseshoes!"

Draco snorted, glanced at Harry with a raised eyebrow, then smiled pitifully. "Which is only fair, since I have to make up all the points, you're going to cost us in riding."

Harry almost objected but was smart enough to stop himself. Draco was about to be proven right.

Not that Harry was being deliberately dimwitted, Ron was considerably clumsier than him in _every_ way, but Harry wasn’t brilliant either. The chaos began when he tethered the pony because Harry didn't want to get the right knot, then he didn't comb properly, but against the direction of coat growth, then he placed the saddle the wrong way around on the horse's back, although Draco had shown him how to do it properly. All in all, it went quite catastrophically.

The only reason why Draco was relatively relaxed about it was that Ron had tethered his pony right next to them, so they could see live and in colour that Hermione had a much harder time. If Harry was clumsy, Ron was the real catastrophe. Admittedly, Hermione wasn't exactly the best teacher either. The combination was doomed to fail. Harry took it with a grain of humour, as did Ron and Hermione, fortunately.

But somehow all of them survived to tack up the ponies and made their way to the riding arena where they started to mount. Hermione, just like Draco, had decided to leave her horse in the stable for the time being and concentrate fully on her teammate. Apart from Blaise and Neville, there was no one else in the arena and they only let their ponies walk around on long reins.

"All right, mount up, Potter," Draco urged Harry and held Hetja's reins in Harry's place. They had come to a halt in the middle of the arena and were watched from the edge by the first onlookers, Ginny, Seamus and Dean to be precise.

"Put your foot in the stirrup, gather momentum and swing the other leg over the back. Preferably a bit more elegant than Weasley," Draco added. Harry grinned at the sight of his best friend, who had less than good heaved his weight onto the back of his pony – Baldur – somehow, and was now struggling to balance himself.

Mounting a horse was actually not that difficult, Hetja stood still and Harry almost had the feeling that he didn't look as much like a sack of potatoes as he had feared. And because it was ponies, Harry wasn’t at a dizzying height. All in all, he felt very comfortable on Hetja's back. There was just one thing...

"Heaven’s sake, Potter! _Stop it_ and keep your hands on the reins. Now!", Draco hissed disturbed, as soon as he noticed what Harry was doing.

Harry grinned amusedly down at Draco. Ponies were small, but Hetja was on the larger side. Taller than Draco Harry was now certainly. "I just don't want to squeeze anything", Harry defended himself, but actually stopped to position his crotch in a more comfortable position. Ginny whistled at him from the fence, Harry gave her a one-finger salute.

Draco left it at an eye roll and started to correct Harry's sitting position with instructions. The reins were of a different calibre, so Draco lent a hand and brought Harry's fingers into the correct position. Harry watched Draco's movement closely, it was the first time he had got a good look at the pale fingers. They were extraordinarily _graceful_ if that’s even an adequate description for fingers. But graceful put it surprisingly well in a nutshell. They were slim, like the rest of Draco, but more delicate than bony. And _long_ , his fingers were long. Harry wasn't quite sure why it _mattered_ that they were long, but he felt the need to point it out.

Far too quickly, Draco's fingers disappeared again, and the riding lesson began. At first, Draco walked next to Hetja, explained to Harry how to steer best and how to get Hetja to stop. The mare didn't mind Draco's presence at all, on the contrary, she kept nudging him with her nose when he concentrated too much on Harry and not enough on her. That was pretty fucking cute if Harry was honest.

After a few rounds of Ginny and Seamus shouting some completely unhelpful comments at him, Draco let Harry ride by himself. It wasn't hard, after all, Hetja only walked and Harry didn't have to do anything except keeping himself on the horseback. Ron seemed to find this more difficult. Baldur was a much smaller and narrower pony than Hetja, the redhead looked more awkward than he actually was. It was funny though, which Ginny especially commented loudly. Maybe it wasn't so bad that there was no actual riding instructor present, with all finger giving.

Blaise and Neville, who were both clearly more talented riders, and who didn’t only steer their horses on the track but also created some kind of shape within the arena ("riding figures, Potter. You'll learn them another time"), even changed their gaits and spurred their horses.

"Change rein, Potter," Draco instructed Harry. He stood next to Hermione at the fence of the arena and watched Harry closely from there.

"Change _what_ now?", Harry asked, turning to Draco, but the blond turned around and _walked away_ in grand strides. Straight towards a large black car that was coming down the driveway to the farm.

"Riding terminology," explained Neville, who passed Harry at walk with his pony. "Basically, you just have to change the direction. Go across the diagonal and you should end up tracking in the other direction." Harry gave Neville a quick grateful nod and then did what Draco had told him to do.

Whether changing the direction or not, walk was a rather boring gait, so it didn't take long for Harry to look around for Draco. He stood quite a distance away next to the big black car, which hadn't even made it to the parking place. Next to him stood a tall, slim woman who was at least as pale and blond as Draco. They talked to each other but were too far away to be able to see or hear anything more. Harry watched them for two more rounds until he felt silly.

Draco didn’t return to the riding arena until twenty minutes later and seemed more than annoyed. Nevertheless calm, a little as if he was trying hard _not_ to seem annoyed. He entered the riding arena without further ado and caught up with Hetja and Harry without any trouble.

"Are you bored yet?", he asked Harry with a half-hearted smile as he walked beside them.

Harry nodded slowly. "A little. Was that your mother?"

Draco opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by excited shouting. "Mate, Harry! Look, he’s trotting!"

Harry turned to Ron, who was actually, well, at least _faster_ than he had been a few minutes ago. It still didn't look healthy. Ron held on quite tight to his saddle and reins as he was thrown up and down on the back of the pony. The abstruse image was surpassed by Ron's beaming smile. Harry bit his tongue hard to keep from laughing at him.

"Are you sure you're not just destroying Baldur's back? Granger, _do something_!" Draco just shook his head. Hermione looked as if she was completely overwhelmed and at the same time immensely amused, but then actually intervened and tried to explain something about rising trot to Ron.

"I didn't know the competition was so flimsy this year," Draco murmured more to himself. Meanwhile, he walked backwards beside Hetja's head so he could look at Harry as he spoke.

Hermione gave him a grumpy look. "Pride comes before a fall, Malfoy! And if I remember correctly, my team won last year which puts me a year ahead of you!"

Draco's jaw clenched in an instant, but instead of looking at Hermione, he looked at Harry. "How much do you care about winning, Potter?"

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I –"

" _I_ care about it a lot, so do me a favour and don't fuck it up, all right?" If Draco hadn't put on such a murderous face, the request might have been cute.

"As long as you don't start claiming you're my babysitter again, I'll do my best," Harry replied. If he was completely honest, he didn't really care much about this competition, but firstly, Draco seemed to genuinely care and secondly, Harry wasn’t the type to refuse a challenge.

"Your condition is that I have to be nice to you?" Draco tilted his head and studied Harry's face. The corner of his mouth twitched with an amused smile. "You see, I _can_ be nice if I want to be."

Something about the tone in Draco's voice sent heat up Harry's cheeks. Was this the _flirting_ that everyone was always talking about? At what point was flirting even _appropriate_? They had only known each other for one day. Was Harry even _willing_ to flirt with Draco? And wasn't the fact that Draco didn't even use Harry's first name rather anti-flirting? There were far too many unanswered questions for Harry.

What he knew was that Draco was quite _fucking_ beautiful. In a purely objective way, _of course_. One had to ignore the fact that his personality was a little mixed and someone who _usually_ didn't care about superficiality shouldn't do that. But what was Harry supposed to do? Just lie to himself and claim that he didn't spend too much time looking at Draco's tight jodhpurs that were filled out in exactly the right places? No, that was bullshit. Maybe he just had to come to terms with the fact that his body didn't care quite as much about personality than his heart.

"Hetja will tölt if you give her leg aids. She may be four-gaited, but she rarely trots without enough weight and rein aids," Draco said, interrupting Harry’s thoughts. The blond slowed down until he walked, still backwards, at Harry's leg height.

"Tölt?" Harry asked as he gathered himself and pushed all thoughts of Draco's attractive appearance far away from him.

"Most Icelandic horses, in addition to the three standard gaits of walk, trot and canter, are also proficient in tölt and flying pace. Hetja usually has a very clear tölt, you’ll like it. Feels like riding a rocking horse," explained Draco and even spared any comment about Harry's lack of knowledge.

"All you have to do to proceed in tölt is press your inside leg against her girth, she does the rest on her own," Draco continued, placing one hand on Harry's left calf. He applied a little pressure, Hetja raised her head instantly and sped up. Harry was only getting warmer. "There. Just with both legs."

And with that, Draco moved away a bit. Harry shortened the reins and proceeded in tölt as instructed. Hetja followed the impulse immediately and jerked forward, but Harry managed to steady himself and noticed immediately what Draco had meant by "rocking horse". Hetja's tölt felt a little bit like flying and for that, the waiting had definitely been worth it. 

~

The rest of the day was quite fun. After the riding lesson, Harry and Ron led their ponies back into the stable and then joined the onlookers at the fence of the riding arena. There were a few benches provided for this purpose. Within the next few hours all participants, except for Hermione and Draco, rode their respective horses. Ginny was enviably good, considering the fact that she had only been riding for a year.

Draco stayed with Harry, Ron and Hermione for a while and watched Pansy and Theodore riding. Theo was one of the better riders, Pansy wasn’t really better than Ginny. Harry witnessed with astonishment that Draco didn’t make one derogatory comment about the black-haired woman and only gave her helpful tips. Draco truly seemed to have a soft spot for this sport.

But after Pansy and Theo left the arena, the blond disappeared and spent the rest of the day with the two and Blaise. Harry instead engaged in a conversation with Luna, who confessed with big, bright eyes that she was a big fan of Harry's musical side. After that Harry chased Ginny around the courtyard for twenty minutes because she had _no right_ to show videos of him playing the guitar or, even worse, singing. Still, he was flattered, after all these were two of his favourite hobbies and Luna seemed to be serious about the compliment.

After a delicious lunch, Seamus challenged him to a round of Mario Kart on Wii in the lounge. One round turned into fifteen and Harry lost twelve of them. After that, they had their riding lessons with Miss Vector. The groups were sorted by riding ability, so Harry had a one-to-one lesson with Ron. Miss Vector was a strict but fair teacher and gave Harry five horseshoe points more than Ron for that lesson. Ron was annoyed about it for a quarter of an hour, but when Hermione only praised him, he finally shut up.

Draco never showed up for his lesson. All Blaise said was that Miss Vector was informed and Draco had "better things to do." Whatever _that_ meant. Harry spent the rest of the afternoon playing basketball with Ron and Ginny against Seamus, Dean and Neville on the small court in front of the guesthouse. Ginny was definitely the only reason they won in the end. The following dinner and the shower afterwards were sorely needed.

Totally exhausted, Harry, already dressed in sleeping clothes, lay down in his bed and played with the thought of never getting up again. Shortly before he would’ve actually fallen asleep, Ron joined him and, without expecting an invitation, lay down next to him in his bed. For a short time, the two young men just kept silent before Ron found his voice again.

"Where's Goldilocks?"

Harry looked over at Draco's empty bed for a moment, then answered, "Dunno."

"He's not a bad teacher, to be fair. He's no Miss Vector, but he's certainly better than Hermione," Ron thought aloud. Harry had no idea why Ron was telling him that.

"Maybe I’m just the better student," he murmured tiredly, for which he got a smack in his side from Ron. Harry just laughed.

"Shut _up_! He really is better. You know what Hermione said when I asked what the hell 'tölt' was?" Ron began. "She said, and I quote, 'A gait in which the horse alternately places one or two hooves on the ground, therefore it’s a _four-beat gait without a suspended phase_.' I mean, honestly, _who_ talks like that?"

Harry grunted amusedly, too tired for any further reaction. "You fancy her."

Ron stiffened up beside Harry. The statement wasn't really risky, Hermione was _exactly_ Ron's type. And the more he complained about the brown-haired woman, the clearer he was trying to hide something. Harry knew his best friend. Though, it was a risky statement for someone who took an active interest in his own teammate's arse.

"She's nice," Ron slowly admitted, looking up at the ceiling. "I didn't know _you_ liked blonds," he added smugly.

"Ron – " Harry began, but Ron interrupted him.

"Don't deny it! You're as inconspicuous as a bull in a china shop!"

"I don’t think the phrase works like tha –"

"Mate. I've known you for more than seven years now. Don't tell me I'm wrong."

Ron was _not_ wrong. But there was the superficiality thing again, and the fact that Harry was clearly too tired right now to worry about whether his feelings were even well-founded enough to exist.

"I like the hair," Harry admitted. _And the fingers, they're so graceful, just like his legs. Hell, the arse is a gift from God, how that is proportionally even possible is a mystery to me. Oh and the eyes! I've always had a weakness for grey eyes. Did you ever notice his eyelashes? They're longer than it should be legal._ " _The hair_ is pretty."

Harry could literally hear Ron smiling next to him. "So blonds _are_ your thing."

No, apparently it was Harry's thing to stare unasked at _one_ certain blond, but Ron couldn't have possibly known about this conversation.

"Ron, I'm _really_ tired and we have to get up early in the mo –“ Harry tried to distract him, but Ron wasn’t one to be dismissed so easily.

"How about a competition? One _we_ are interested in." Draco wasn’t the only one who didn't lack ambition in this riding competition. Hermione was kinder, perhaps, but equally obsessed with winning. Blaise had only waved it off and told them to ignore it, so did the rest of them.

"Competition?" Harry asked because Ron had taken a dramatic pause.

"Whoever of us sleeps with our own teammate first wins," Ron began, and Harry heard himself protesting but he continued. "If I win, you'll take me to a football match of my choice and if you win, I'll go to one of those absolutely boring concerts with you and I’ll pay."

Harry paused; Ron seemed _serious_. "Isn't that kind of degrading to Hermione?" And Draco, but he was sure Ron wouldn't be particularly interested in Draco's dignity.

"It's just a joke, you know, like a bet. Just for us. So we can, you know… get our arses in gear."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of this. The idea, that had nothing even remotely to do with a _bet_ , was obviously stupid, but he was clearly too tired to argue about it now. And maybe it would help Ron, for whatever reason, to have an incentive. Maybe that's what he needed to get rid of his shyness. Maybe Harry's yes could make his best friend finally get a girlfriend again. Maybe Harry was just thinking too selfishly when he wanted to refuse. No one _forced_ him to give it a shot with Draco. He would just do it for Ron. Yeah, that sounded logical.

"All right, whatever," Harry agreed, even though the unpleasant feeling of making a mistake with this didn’t leave him.


	2. A Question of Loyalty

Seven o'clock in the morning, the beeping of an alarm clock just wouldn't stop and something warm and massive made it hard for Harry to breathe freely. He braced himself against the something and not a second later there was a rumble and "Ouch!", but at least Harry was able to breathe again.

"Bugger, Harry, have you bloody lost your mind?" Ron complained from the floor he had just been pushed onto.

Harry just made an annoyed growl. It wasn't his fault that Ron had rolled halfway on top of him in his sleep. Blindly the black-haired man groped for the alarm clock and the beeping finally stopped. For a moment it was just quiet.

The morning sun rays passed through the thin fabric of the curtains into the room and bathed the room in dim light. Harry blinked, yawned and then looked down at the floor next to his bed. Ron sat up there, rubbing his neck and looking around sleepily.

"Fuck, I think I fell asleep yesterday," he murmured and rubbed his eyes.

Harry grunted amusedly. "Yeah, no shit. Oh _fuck_ –!" As he sat up, Harry clearly felt an unpleasant sting in his thighs and bottom. "Sore muscles!”

Ron groaned and made a noise which had to mean something like, "Me too". Then he looked over at Draco's bed. "Do you think he saw me?" he whispered worriedly.

"I don't think he's blind," Harry replied helpfully and received a horrified look from Ron. Harry laughed softly and shrugged his shoulders. "Doesn’t matter."

Ron frowned, then twisted his mouth into a suggestive grin and waggled his eyebrows in Harry's direction as he raised himself from the floor in a somewhat cumbersome manner. "Maybe now he thinks we’re shagging or something."

"Gross, mate. No offence... but _you_ –" Harry made a face like he was going to throw up. Ron went to smack him, Harry could only just save himself. In response, Ron muttered something about disrespect. Harry just laughed as quietly as he could, then he fled into the bathroom. 

~

The dining hall was already well attended when Harry and Ron arrived for breakfast an hour later. Most had been quicker with the mucking out and feeding, but Ron and Harry had talked to Hagrid for a while longer. Actually, only Hagrid had spoken and explained the names of the different coat colours of the ponies. There was probably nothing better for the bearded man than two clueless newcomers to whom he could share all his knowledge. Ron and Harry would never have complained, but they hadn't really listened either. Hagrid hadn't noticed.

"Morning," Harry greeted Blaise and Draco, to whose table he had dragged Ron. They nodded and Blaise even moved aside a bit to make room for Ron. Harry sat down next to Draco and looked at the blond briefly.

He didn’t wear his hair in a bun as usual but had tied it in a ponytail at the back of his neck. A few loose strands fell on his face, Draco tucked them behind his ear from time to time. The movement was far too fascinating not to watch. At least to Harry.

There was something tense about Draco's face as if he was stressed. The facial features, which usually worked so harmoniously together, contradicted each other. The clenched jaw was in complete contrast to the smile Draco had put on while talking to Blaise. Something was wrong, Harry noticed it immediately. Blaise seemed to notice it too, he was watching the blond at least as closely as Harry and seemed to pay particular attention to his choice of words. As if he was trying to consciously avoid a subject.

"Will Weasley sleep in our room every night from now on?" Draco asked Harry out of nowhere. Harry paused in his movement before continuing to spread butter on his bread and exchanging a look with Ron. The redhead looked highly uncomfortable.

"No, we were just talking yesterday and fell asleep," Harry explained factually, ignoring Draco's sceptical look. Instead, he continued his breakfast with a decided lack of concern.

"It would be _very_ cool of you not to tell Hermione about this," Ron began with red cheeks. "I don't think she noticed, and I don't want her to think I'm uncomfortable with being around her."

Harry gave Ron a questioning look and was tempted to ask if he was actually uncomfortable about sleeping in the same room with Hermione. But he didn't, because Blaise and Draco looked at Ron with at least the same interest and he didn't want to make the situation even more uncomfortable.

"Cute," Blaise commented. "Remember our slumber parties, Draco? Pansy always wanted to sleep in your bed. The discussions every time..."

"It's king-size, you can't blame her." Draco shrugged, but then turned to Ron with a dangerous glint in his eye and a mischievous smile on his lips. "I'd be willing not to tell Granger about your little rendezvous if -"

"It wasn’t a rendezvous," Harry interrupted him, but Draco just kept talking.

"– If you simply continue to act dimwitted about any activities that might win you points."

"Deal!" Ron said instantly and held out his hand to Draco as if to seal it with a gesture.

Before Draco could even think of shaking his hand, Blaise took Ron's wrist and pushed it out of reach. " _No_ deal. It's against the _rules_ , Draco! If I may remind you of last year –“

"He _agreed_ ," Draco interrupted him and glared defiantly at his best friend.

"You can't agree to _blackmail_ ," Blaise countered.

Harry exchanged an amused look with Ron.

"Tell me which rule explicitly precludes blackmail! Just because you don’t give a fu –"

Harry decided that this was the right moment to intervene and interrupt Draco. "On another subject, where were you yesterday at noon? You missed your riding lesson, and you seemed to care a lot about the –“

Harry broke off, as soon as he noticed Blaise, who gave him a very clear signal to shut up now. Draco looked as if he had just bitten into a sour lemon and was now glaring at Harry instead of Blaise. Only much more ill-tempered than a few seconds ago.

"Good morning everyone!" Hermione came to a halt at their table, beamed at them, then sat down on a chair at the head of the table between Harry and Ron.

Harry could literally feel it getting a few degrees colder on his other side. Draco's face only darkened even more. "It was until just now. "

Hermione's radiance faded on her face and she frowned. "Oh, aren’t we funny so early in the morning,” she said, trying to dismiss the comment.

Draco scoffed and dropped his fork noisily onto the plate in front of him to cross his arms. "The only joke here is you."

For a few seconds, there was an embarrassed silence at the table. Hermione and Draco simply glared at each other, Blaise annoyedly massaged his temples and Harry and Ron looked at each other confusedly across the table.

"You know," Hermione then began composed. "I really thought your childish behaviour had subsided. I can't say I'm surprised I was wrong!"

"As if I care one whit what you think. I don't need your approval, Granger," Draco said coolly.

Hermione laughed bitterly. "No, how could I forget. All _you_ need is _Daddy's_ validation. It's a pity you’ll never –"

Draco sprang to his feet, the chair squeaked unpleasantly on the wooden floor. "Don't you _dare!_ Worthless little _slut!"_

"All right, that's ENOUGH! What the hell is _wrong_ with you people?" Blaise had also jumped to his feet and was now scowling at Hermione and Draco in turn. "You're behaving like _toddlers_. It's been _two_ years, get the hell over it!"

And with that, he grabbed Draco by the wrist and dragged him determined out of the dining hall. Hermione gazed after them for a moment, then jumped up too and disappeared, still trembling with rage, towards the bathroom. Some of the other participants looked curiously in their direction, the argument had been anything but quiet.

Harry threw a stunned look at Ron, who returned it with an open mouth. "Why do I feel like we missed something?"

~

Harry had learned not to care too much. It wasn't as if he didn't care about the life around him, no, that wasn't the point. Maybe it was self-protection, Harry's therapist had said so once. It was a way for him to shut the world out, not to be vulnerable for once. Not even to himself. Not caring too much helped. It had helped when the kids in elementary school laughed at him, it had helped when the Dursleys treated him like a burden, it helped with homesickness, it helped with missing and it helped with dealing with disappointment.

Rationally, Harry wasn’t disappointed in Draco. How could he? He didn't know Draco's reasons for his actions. He didn't know _Draco_. And yet, he was disappointed.

Most of the time, it was pleasant not to care too much, it was like taking your own emotions, putting them in a jam jar, screwing the lid on and putting it aside. It didn’t make him cold, just eased. He carried his feelings and emotions safely tucked away in his chest and let them come to light carefully rationed when he was ready. It was easy. Too easy. So why didn't it work on Draco?

Mrs Longbottom's office door was closed, Blaise sat in a chair next to the door under a noticeboard with all sorts of announcements attached to it. He seemed more relaxed than he did half an hour ago. Though his expression changed slightly when he noticed Harry walking towards him.

Actually, Harry didn’t want to ask, but it wasn’t as if fate would give him a choice. "Is Draco in there?" He pointed to the office door and stopped in front of Blaise. He glanced at him briefly, then nodded slowly. Harry nodded as well, then skimmed the notes on the noticeboard. That's all he wanted to know, even though the information was of absolutely no use to him.

"He’s talking to Mrs Longbottom about riding lessons, not about –" Blaise gestured in the air, but said no more. Harry nodded again, kept looking on the noticeboard for the reason he was here.

"I - I'm sorry you had to witness that," Blaise tried again, Harry eyed him briefly. Blaise seemed to mean it, even though he really had no reason to apologize. "This hasn't happened for a long time."

Harry considered asking how long exactly "a long time" was, and why it was happening in the first place but decided against it. Maybe it was better not to bring it up at all. Maybe it was better to put what he had experienced into a jam jar and forget it.

"Are you here to ask for a new team partner?" Blaise asked bluntly.

Harry frowned, the question seemed logical, but the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. He shook his head. "No, I'm just looking for the Wi-Fi password."

Blaise kept quiet and Harry found the note. He pulled out his mobile phone and typed the number combination. The phone service here was terrible and now he was finally able to write Sirius again. He really needed that. When jam jars didn't work, Sirius was always the best person to contact.

Harry glanced at Blaise, who looked at him carefully as if he was hoping for something. Harry gave in with a sigh. "It's not _nice_ to label people 'worthless' or 'slut'. You can't expect me to cut capers when he treats Hermione like that!"

Blaise sat up a bit on his chair, looked at Harry calmly and then nodded slowly. "That's right. And I don't expect you to."

"But you do expect me to forgive him, don't you?" Harry asked, leaving Blaise no time to answer. "Let's face it, he hasn't really given me a _reason_ to take his side!" Actually, Draco's smile – the real smile – was reason enough, but Harry certainly wouldn't let Blaise in on that.

"I know he can be _difficult_. But trust me when I say that this morning is no longer a common occurrence. A few things happened yesterday..." Blaise broke off, lay his fingertips to his temples and sighed.

Harry put his phone and his hands in his pocket. "I have no intention of changing teammates. Is that enough?" He probably sounded sulkier than intended.

Blaise lowered his hands and nodded slowly. "Just –" he hesitated again. "I know it doesn't make it better, but Hermione's words were no less hurtful."

Harry lowered his gaze to his toes and smiled slightly. "It's funny, isn't it? That it shouldn't make it better, but it does just that." He nodded at Blaise again and disappeared towards the stairs leading to the first floor.

He needed his guitar now and that more than urgently.

~

When Harry played the guitar, he was free. When he sang, he was free. When he rode his scooter down empty streets on dark nights, he was free. Then there were no jam jars full of emotions, then there was just him and freedom in perfect harmony.

Luna wasn’t the only one who appreciated Harry's passion for his musical instrument. A little later, when Harry was sitting in the meadow next to the back entrance of the guesthouse, watching a couple of ponies grazing in the paddocks, enjoying the warm sunbeams and plucking undefined melodies, Neville joined him as well as Luna.

The two of them were sitting just a bit away in the green and were talking quietly. They tried not to disturb Harry and still listen to his strumming. Harry didn’t mind their company. Instead, he finally took the time to think.

He had to make up his mind, this couldn’t go on like this. Either he would pursue his curiosity and get involved in the mystery of Draco Malfoy or he would listen to the world that was apparently trying to show him that this was a dangerous path to take.

We, you and I, of course, know what Harry will decide. But there's the whole thing with morality. Draco wouldn't give a damn about that, I'm sure you can imagine, but Harry? Hermione was his friend. He knew her far longer than Draco. And she was nice. Not the mixed-up nice Draco had to offer, but the honest kind you'd expect from any person. And that's where it gets complicated. Because suddenly it's not just a question of morality, it's a question of loyalty as well. And while Harry can do without morality if worst comes to worst, his sense of loyalty is absolute.

So why would Harry flout his loyalty? Remember when the two of them met for the first time? The upheaval of the future? Let me tell you that Harry won’t lose his sense of loyalty, not in the future. There's only one time he'll break it, and that's right now. Because without a break, nothing can heal.

Harry chose Draco when the blond walked down the stairs of the back entrance of the guesthouse with Pansy and laughed. Had Harry felt even a hint of bitterness at that moment, he would’ve chosen differently. But Draco's laughter gave him nothing but bliss and it overshadowed even the strongest loyalty.

Draco's laugh died when he noticed Harry. However, he didn’t look away but held Harry’s observant gaze and then Pansy nudged him into the side, prompting him and they walked towards him.

Pansy settled down with Neville and Luna, interfered in the conversation without being asked, but was warmly received. Draco, on the other hand, walked closer, he hesitated only for a moment before he sat down next to Harry.

For a while, no one said anything. The chirping of the crickets and the sounds of the guitar filled the silence and made any tension bearable. Draco's gaze was lowered to the grass in front of him. He sat cross-legged, traced the shapes of the grass and the red petals of a poppy with his fingers and just listened to the music. He seemed composed, neither relaxed nor tense.

Harry watched as three light-blond strands of hair came loose from Draco's ponytail in slow motion and fell into his face. Draco ignored the first two. The third he tucked behind his ear, then he lifted his head and returned Harry's gaze.

Only briefly, not long enough to count for _anything_ , but long enough for Harry to find his voice again. "Are you -Uh, Are you all right?"

Draco raised his head, surprised by Harry's words, and he stared at him with furrowed brows. Harry almost forgot to play on but remembered it just in time.

"Yes," Draco replied, then lowered his gaze again to the poppies before him. The movement caused more strands to come loose from Draco's ponytail. _One, two, three, four_ …

"Do you want to talk about it?" Harry interrupted his thoughts and this time stopped playing intentionally. The missing sounds left an unpleasant void in the air.

Draco shook his head. _Five, six, seven..._ The eighth strand tickled Draco's nose and he brushed it impatiently from his face.

"Fine. Then don’t," Harry said, repositioning his hands on his guitar. "Any song requests?"

~

"You know, I don't mind that you don't blame him for what happened this morning," Ron remarked as he repositioned the chessmen on the board. "Hermione has been racking her brains all day and blaming herself. I wouldn't be surprised if she apologizes to him today."

Harry made a noise to simulate interest and watched Draco sitting on one of the two leather sofas in the other corner of the room. He had wrapped one arm around Pansy, the other hand was holding his drink.

It was already the evening of the same day and all twelve participants of the horse-riding holidays relaxed in the lounge of the guesthouse. At noon they had had another riding lesson with Ms Vector and learned more gaits. Although riding was actually fun and Harry felt that he was making great progress, the sore muscles from the day before had overshadowed everything a bit negatively. After their riding lesson, they had watched the others for a while. Hermione was without question one of the best. She had Snerpa, her assigned pony, under control like no one else. Draco had been gone half the afternoon, but he had watched Harry's riding lesson (and mocked him about his sore muscles with Ginny). All in all, a relaxed day, if one ignored the incident in the morning.

"What I’m trying to say is that they'll probably sort it out between themselves anyway. So taking sides is completely unnecessary." Maybe Ron was trying to be understanding with his words. Or maybe he was just reminding Harry that he didn't have to take Draco's side just because he didn't take Hermione's.

Once again, Harry made an approving noise. Draco was toasting to Theo and laughed at something he had said. Blaise took the dangerously sloshing drink from his hand as he moved. Draco pursed his lips, but let Blaise do as he pleased.

"I mean, I'm obviously kind of curious about what all this means, but if neither of them wants to talk about it, I guess we'll have to accept that," Ron said decidedly and put the last piece on the board.

Draco had just been boisterously embraced by Pansy and tried to escape to the other corner of the sofa. Theo took pity on him and held Pansy by the forearm. The young woman was furious about it. Draco placed his feet on Pansy's lap and patted her upper arm from a safe distance as if to calm her down.

"Somehow, I have a feeling the others know something we don't. I mean, everybody noticed the fight, but nobody even asked me about it. Not even Seamus wanted to know what happened! And Ginny just says I should ask Hermione about it," Ron continued uninhibitedly.

Draco finally noticed Harry's gaze, raised one eyebrow and a mischievous smile twisted his lips. He wasn't smiling enough for anyone else to notice, but definitely enough for Harry. Then Draco made a movement with his chin that was probably meant as an invitation.

"Log entry of July 24, 2018, at 20:37. The test subject is unresponsive to verbal stimulation. Mr Potter is still completely caught up in his fascination with Goldilocks," Ron said in a played robotic voice, finally earning Harry's attention.

"Shut _up_ ," he growled and threw one of the chess pieces at his best friend. Ron ducked laughing. Then he made some ambiguous expressions and Harry decided that Ron had to be stopped.

So he got up without further ado and went over to the leather sofas, dragging Ron along. He only followed Draco's invitation, Ron could keep his bloody mouth shut. The "When I said that we shouldn't take sides, I didn't mean that you should drag me to the other party in front of Hermione's eyes" from Ron, fortunately only Harry heard.

Theo, Pansy and Blaise were a bit surprised at their appearance, but Blaise moved aside a bit to make room for them. Harry settled down with Ron and hurriedly looked around for Hermione. The brown-haired woman was sitting next to Ginny and Luna on the other side of the room, absorbed in a book. She hadn’t even noticed Harry and Ron's change of location.

"Earth to Potter!"

Harry frowned and turned his attention back to Draco, who had tapped his knee with his toes.

"What?"

"You mean 'pardon’," Draco corrected and placed his foot back on Pansy's lap. "You wanted to know where I was when I missed the riding lesson, right?"

Harry nodded. He wouldn't have asked again, even though Draco had also missed the riding lesson this afternoon, but he certainly didn't need a repeat of the morning.

"Draco owns a _stallion!"_ , Pansy exclaimed excitedly and received an annoyed eye roll from Draco.

"Wait, for real?" Ron asked in surprise. "I thought to own a stallion was rather unusual unless you're breeding." He seemed to actually remember Hermione's lectures.

"– or if you’re competing in horse shows," Pansy added. "Draco has to train in the afternoon."

Draco pulled a face in Pansy's direction because she had just stolen the news from him, but she was far too excited to notice.

"Does your stallion by any chance have a black coat?" Harry asked, amused by so much euphoria.

Draco frowned. "How do you know that?”

"He saw us coming out of the riding hall on Sunday. You were leading him then," Blaise remembered, grinning knowingly at Harry.

"I'm _jealous!"_ sighed Pansy theatrically and then looked begging to Draco. " _I_ want Feykir! Give him to me, will you?"

"Is that his name?" Harry inquired.

Draco's smile broadened in an instant. "Yes. Feykir frá Efri-Rauðalæk. But we usually leave it to Feykir."

"How did you _not_ swallow your tongue just now?" Ron asked and seemed almost impressed.

A stallion. The great mystery was a stallion. That's why Draco was so busy. He had a show pony to train. But it made sense. No wonder Mrs Longbottom had no problem with Draco ignoring the daily schedule in the afternoons. Preparations for the horse shows were definitely prioritized over horse-riding holidays. Harry probably wouldn't have done it any other way if he'd been in Draco's shoes.

"You _have_ to watch them train. There's something _divine_ about it," Pansy enthused dreamily. Ron and Harry exchanged uncomprehending looks.

"She's exaggerating," Draco intervened. "But you can still watch it."

Harry felt there was nothing more urgent for him than to see Draco Malfoy on a horseback. A temptation he wouldn’t resist.

~ 

The next morning began as usual for Harry. _Apparently,_ he let the alarm clock ring too long, got some grumbled insults from Draco and then set off with Ron to tend the ponies. This time Hermione joined in, although that didn't affect the points. Still, she seemed to slowly develop feelings of guilt, as Ron was the one who always had to get up early. And, as you know, a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved.

Draco preferred _no_ sorrow at all and let Harry do everything alone. Not that Harry minded. He liked talking to Hagrid, and besides, he had, in his opinion, already established a very friendly relationship with Andvari, Draco's allotted pony. This would certainly benefit him in the future, there was no question about that. And apart from all that, Harry was surprisingly fond of the sight of a well-rested Draco. He was fond of the sight of Draco in _general_ , but a good-humoured, breakfasting Draco, who wore forbidden tight jodhpurs and on good days crossed his legs under the table, outdid any caffeine rush by far. 

On the agenda for the day was a pony obstacle course in the morning. This was probably one of those announced equestrian games where they could score additional horseshoe points. Harry looked forward to the whole thing with mixed feelings. Justifiably so, as it turned out a little later.

The obstacle course had been set up in the riding arena and was run by Madam Hooch. A tall woman with short grey hair and zeal that Harry couldn’t understand in this summer heat and at this early hour. Nevertheless, she managed to get everyone halfway motivated to comb one horse per team and lead them to the arena on the reins.

Draco immediately announced that he would take over the riding part of the game and it didn't take any difficulty to get Harry to agree. Through Madam Hooch's instructions, it could be assumed that they would have to ride bareback and Harry loved to save himself the embarrassment of just plunging onto the sand in front of everyone else. Ron saw it exactly the same way and granted Hermione the honour of riding. The alternative to riding was - well - not exactly _thrilling_.

The rules of the obstacle course were simple. There was one runner and one rider per team. The runner started at the starting whistle, had to cross the poles and obstacles that were set up on the riding arena and on the other side of the arena he had to fish an apple from a waist-high, water-filled barrel and bring it back to the team's rider on the same way. As soon as the runner reached the rider and the apple was handed over, the rider was allowed to mount his horse and ride the same course as the runner. The rider had to throw the apple with a certain distance into the barrel. The winner was the team where the rider reached the runner first.

So much for the theory. Since the riding arena wasn’t big enough for all six teams, only two teams competed against each other. For each won round, the winning team was awarded 15 horseshoe points. To avoid overstraining the horses, each team was only allowed to compete for three times, which meant nine rounds in total.

Neville and Blaise started against Dean and Seamus. The others stood at the fence of the arena and took over the cheering. The obstacle course looked manageable, the only challenge was that the apple had been attached to the bottom of the barrel and all team runners had to go swimming to get the fruit out of it. Harry cursed the world for being the only one here wearing glasses. Dean and Seamus were the winners of the first round, they were followed by Theo and Pansy against Hermione and Ron. This round was won by Ron and Hermione.

"I expect to see the maximum effort, Potter! Are you sure you want to keep those on?" Draco poked Harry’s spectacles as they entered the arena with Ginny and Luna.

Harry nodded and avoided Draco's finger, which was dangerously close to his eye. "If you don't want me to run around the arena like a blind chicken, I think it'd be better."

Draco made a disapproving sound and stopped at their starting position with Andvari on the reins. The sand-coloured pony snorted and nudged Harry with his nose. Harry soothingly stroked the pony's neck.

"Then don't forget to take them off before you dive into the water," Draco replied and then he gave Harry a sugar-sweet smile. "If you don’t exert yourself, I will put horse manure in your bed."

Harry smiled back at least as radiantly. "Dare and I'll put horse piss in your shampoo."

Draco gasped in horror.

"Positions!" Madam Hooch yelled and Harry hurried to position himself at the starting line. Ginny was his opponent and he would never, ever beat her without Draco's help. "On your mark, get set –"

The whistle sounded and Harry sprinted off.

The theory was nothing compared to the practice. Crossing poles and obstacles was the _fucking_ understatement of the century. Harry was on his stomach just seconds after the starting whistle and crawled under the first obstacle, then jumped up to balance over a pole and then continued slaloming around a few traffic hats. Then followed three jumps over poles, he crawled under one again and then he was finally at the water barrel. Harry didn't hear the cheers of the others, but he could tell from the corner of his eye that he was at the same level as Ginny.

With one hand holding his glasses, he stared into the murky water of the barrel for a second and thought himself lucky that he didn't have to see this broth in focus. Then he gasped for breath and dove under.

The apple was quickly seized and Harry spurred back the same way. The sand got stuck to his wet clothes and hair, but he had expected this from the previous laps of the other runners. The sore muscles in his thighs made themselves felt again by the unfamiliar movements, but Harry gritted his teeth. He just had to crawl along the sandy ground once more, get up and –

Draco pale fingers grasped the apple, he pushed the reins into Harry's hand and... sat on the horseback? Harry blinked because he wasn't quite sure whether Draco had _really_ just mounted the horse without help, whilst looking far too elegant for it to be considered untrained.

Draco remained unimpressed by Harry's open mouth, grabbed the reins again and set spurs to Andvari. That Draco was a good rider, Harry had been told enough, besides it wasn’t exactly _talent_ that was important in an obstacle course. But _hell_ , Draco could ride! The determination with which he led his pony through the various obstacles, the speed at which he rode the gelding, the accuracy of his throw, it was pure madness. Luna had no chance; Draco won the race with ease.

Draco was definitely a man who liked to win. The sparkle in his eyes, made his whole being shine and infected everyone with his euphoria. Every congratulation stained his cheeks with rosy smugness. Draco was no humble winner, for God's sake, No! Rather, one could see his arrogance swell, his triumph turning into sweet arrogance. Harry could never have grown tired of it.

And he never had to. As the two also won their next rounds against Neville and Blaise and Seamus and Dean. Hell, this ambition was apparently contagious and that the others were at least as happy for them was intoxicating. Harry could barely feel his legs, his breath was irregularly fast, the sand was sticking to his skin and yet Draco fell into his arms as he slipped off Andvari's back for the last time, leaving them the only team to win all three rounds.

Harry almost didn't let go, he was too relieved. Draco's upper body fitted to his own like a puzzle piece, he could _feel_ Draco's quick breath close to his ear and the blond hair tickled Harry at the tip of his nose. He felt a hand on his shoulder, Seamus congratulating their victory, then the hand was gone again and Harry remembered to let go.

"You're lucky. No horse manure for you!" Draco swept the back of his hand provisionally over Harry's shoulder as if to make the wet sand disappear, shook his head and eyed Harry's tangled hair.

Harry grinned, also raised a hand to finally – _finally_ – give in to temptation and brush one of the loose blond strands of hair from Draco's face.

But Draco ducked away from under Harry's hand, turned to leave, but threw another mischievous smile at Harry. "If you're going to stare without asking, at least ask before you touch. "

Something in Harry's stomach tightened deliciously and tingly.

~

"Okay, let me get this straight: I'm here because...?" Ron asked in an uncomprehending tone.

Hermione poked him playfully annoyed in his upper arm. "Don't be mean!" Ron continued to give Harry an uncomprehending look, he had meant the question completely seriously.

Several hours had passed since the obstacle course, which Harry had passed with lunch and lying on the lawn by the paddocks, chatting to Neville, Luna and Ginny. Around late afternoon Pansy had joined him and dragged him to the riding hall. On the way there the young woman had once again convinced him of her eagerness to talk. But it proved to be very enlightening, and Harry had learned the most irrelevant information about Draco within the shortest time. This included his favourite tea (peppermint), his favourite movie genre (arthouse movies, preferably in French. The bloke really couldn't get any more pretentious) and his favourite candy (chocolate, "but not the one with peanuts, unless you’re trying to kill him."). Like a sponge, Harry had absorbed the newly gained information, the walk to the riding hall had felt almost too short. There, Ron, Hermione and Blaise had already been waiting for them. By now all five of them stood behind the fence on the spectator stands of the riding hall and watched what was going on in the arena.

The picture was quite amusing. A good-looking blond man - Mr Lockhart, as Pansy explained - was talking to another man, Draco's father. He had hair just as light blond as Draco, only his was much longer. Mr Malfoy was a tall man with pointy features, cold eyes, a lofty posture and a blasé expression behind which he hid all his contempt and resentment. The discussion seemed to revolve around a heated subject, Mr Lockhart flailed his arms in the air frantically, inadvertently scaring the raven-black pony on whose back Draco was sitting only a few metres away from the two men.

Draco turned his head towards the audience and brought two fingers to his temples to pull the trigger on an imaginary pistol. Pansy giggled next to Harry and then turned to him. "Draco _hates_ Lockhart. He is a terrible riding instructor, but his father insists that Draco be taught by him at least once a week. Don't ask me what he's thinking. The man has about as much understanding of horses as a potato has brains."

"Mr Malfoy is clearly concerned about his prestige," Blaise interfered as he flanked Harry's other side. "Lockhart holds an astonishing reputation amongst the equestrian elite."

"A reputation that’s completely unjustified," complained Pansy, looking back at Draco, who continued to follow the conversation between his father and instructor with annoyance. "Draco is always fighting with his parents because they just won't get it."

Harry hesitated. "Is that why he's always –" He broke off, looking for the right word.

"– in such a bad mood? It does its part. His mother had actually promised him on Monday that the training with Lockhart would be cancelled this week. Then yesterday morning, he got the news from his father that it was going to happen. Draco was accordingly ... you know," Blaise explained, also watching the conversation between the two men.

"But the thing with Granger is a different one," Pansy whispered, for which she received a warning look from Blaise. She stuck her tongue out at him but said nothing more about it. Hermione had apparently not heard Pansy, she giggled at something Ron had said.

"Bit much of a fuss over an instructor, if you ask me," muttered Harry, resting his elbows on the fence. Draco furrowed his eyebrows and wrinkled up his nose at something Lockhart had said. Then he nodded and urged his pony to walk. Mr Malfoy and Mr Lockhart stayed in the middle of the hall and followed Draco's warm-up work closely. Occasionally, Mr Lockhart gave instructions, which Draco reluctantly obeyed.

"Well, Draco competes in _horse shows_ , he can't afford to lose his progress just because his riding instructor doesn't pay proper attention to him and Feykir," Pansy said, and in the meantime pulled Harry a bit away from the fence, onto an oblong wooden bench, where the others were already sitting down.

"Do you see that? The exercise makes no sense at all! Feykir only gets nervous and then his rhythm gets unclear," Hermione complained and joined the conversation.

Pansy raised an eyebrow scornfully. "Since when do _you_ take Draco's side? Haven't you always raved about Lockhart's _unbeatable_ talents?"

Hermione threw Pansy a calculating look, then shrugged. "Mr Lockhart is good at making it seem like he knows what he's doing. But if you look closely at what Draco and Feykir _need_ , then –"

"Hold on, you've seen one of Goldilock's riding lessons before?" Ron interrupted her in confusion. "Then why was there such a mystery about where he disappears to in the afternoon?"

Pansy opened her mouth to answer, but Blaise intervened. "Draco is not particularly keen on strangers meeting his parents. Besides, you really shouldn't care about what Draco does in his spare time."

Ron raised his hands apologetically but gave Harry an accusing look as if it was his fault for sticking his nosy nose where it didn't belong. “I don't care anyway." Blaise briefly eyed Ron, but he seemed pleased and turned his attention back to Draco.

Harry leaned in a little and spoke quietly. "What changed his mind? He wanted us to watch, didn't he?"

This time, Blaise eyed Harry, but with a more friendly expression than before. "Yes, he did," he replied quietly. "And the question isn’t what, but who."

Harry frowned, but Blaise didn't look as if he wanted to say anything more. So Harry looked back at Draco. The blond just finished warming up at walk and changed his gait to tölt.

Seeing Draco on Andvari this morning had been fascinating. Draco on Feykir was overwhelming. The stallion reacted to Draco in a way that was much more profound than the naked eye was able to grasp. They shared one rhythm, one beat, one goal. It was as if Draco was speaking his language, as if they could truly communicate without even needing actual words.

It was enviable. The connection was so obviously intimate, almost inseparable. Every step of the stallion was meant for Draco and every thought of Draco was meant for Feykir. It was the perfect give and take, free from selflessness or selfishness. Their movements were in perfect harmony with each other, for each other. They flew, like birds discovering the light of freedom for the first time. It was truly enviable.

"Draco almost didn't get Feykir," Pansy began to tell, Harry didn't seem to be the only one who was completely captivated by the sight. "After the death of Geyser, Feykir's predecessor, Mr Malfoy was desperate to get one of these totally overpriced show ponies for Draco. They looked at some of them, all of them finest bred, Feykir being the least impressive stallion of them all. Draco didn't care. He chose Feykir out of the gate. For weeks, his father gave everything he had to talk him out of it."

"And was unsuccessful?" Harry asked, thinking only of Draco and the black pony.

"Fortunately, yes," Blaise replied. "Feykir was the reason why Draco defied his father's word for the first time."

"The beginning of a rebellion," Pansy chuckled.

With wise caution, Harry didn’t enter the dangerous territory that was Draco's father, instead he preferred to continue watching the riding lesson. Draco's pale skin and fair hair stood in such stark contrast to Feykir's blackness that they looked made for each other. Harry smiled at himself, he really had to stop thinking so obsessively. Although, Draco would certainly enjoy the attention.

The lesson passed surprisingly quickly, Draco seemed more than relieved when Lockhart announced the end and then left the riding hall with Mr Malfoy. Harry now knew what the others had meant by "unjustified good reputation". Lockhart had distracted Draco and Feykir with his way of teaching in such a manner that Harry was sure that the lesson had done more harm than good. Draco had once even looked almost as if he was about to yell at Lockhart, Harry was sure that Mr Malfoy's presence alone had stopped him.

But now the lesson was over and Draco let Feykir walk through the hall on yielded reins. To Harry's right and left, the four others resumed their everyday conversations. Instead of participating, Harry got up from the bench and leaned over the fence to watch Draco riding.

The blond stopped Feykir when he rode past Harry the next time and raised his chin challengingly. "Impressed, Potter?"

Harry grinned and looked down at Draco. In their position, he towered over Draco and Feykir just a little bit, and that was only because the spectator stands of the riding hall were built high. "You promised me better than good and you kept your word."

There was a small, pleased smile on Draco's lips. "Don't tell me you thought I was exaggerating.”

"You certainly don't lack arrogance," Harry stated, resting his chin on his palm.

Draco tilted his head and looked at Harry thoughtfully for a moment. "And you seem remarkably unconcerned by it."

Harry felt heat creep into his cheeks and shrugged his shoulders. "It's... nice watching you. He's beautiful." He nodded in Feykir’s direction, who stomped his foot as if to confirm Harry's words.

Draco patted the pony's neck soothingly. "Isn’t he? More beautiful than any other."

"So are you," Harry muttered. Draco looked at Harry with surprise. A little too surprised, considering his supposed arrogance. Harry cleared his throat quickly, the heat in his cheeks rising. "I mean both of you... Together. You look beautiful _together_."

The corners of Draco's mouth twitched in amusement. "Thank you, Potter." 

And then he clicked his tongue and Feykir continued his walk. Harry's stomach nearly burst with that tingle that made Harry all woozy. Draco had said, "Thank you." Without ulterior motives or scorn in his voice. Was that good? It definitely felt that way.

“Hell, mate," Ron appeared next to Harry and patted him on the shoulder to instruct him to move away from the fence. The others were already leaving the stands. "You've got it _bad._ "

Ron's laughter drowned in his painful howl as Harry punched him in the side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ron: mate... You do notice he's constantly insulting you, right?  
> Harry: yeah, sure...  
> Harry: but did you see the hair tho? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> ~ Chapter 3 will be Drarry overload BEAR WITH ME it'll be up in like 2ish days


	3. Potentially Addictive

"Someday I'm going to _ruin_ this man. I will destroy his career, expose his incompetence, bleed him dry and watch him die miserably by the wayside!"

"Don't you think you're being a little dramatic, Draco?"

"Dramatic? If there's one thing I'm not, it's _dramatic!_ You know I'm right, Zabini. This man deserves it."

Harry cleared his throat to draw attention to himself and Ron. Draco hardly looked up from his breakfast, but, like Blaise, moved aside a little to make room for the two of them at their table. Harry sat down next to Draco, gave Blaise a questioning look, but he only waved it off discreetly. Draco noticed the gesture anyway and threw a reproachful glance at his best friend.

"Who are we talking about?" Ron asked, sitting next to Blaise as usual and reached across the table for a roll. The daily morning routine was as hard after days as it had been on the first.

" _Lockhart_ ," Draco growled and stared at his scrambled eggs as if it was to blame for the man's existence.

"And you want to bleed him dry?" Harry probed. He looked at the situation the same way Blaise did. Draco overdramatized it immensely.

The blond groaned unnerved and pushed his barely touched breakfast away, then looked up and at Harry, who returned the look as unimpressed as possible.

That wasn't all that easy. Draco still wore his French braid from the night, which was surprisingly intact, but not quite. More loose strands than usual fell on his face and neck. A particularly long, curly strand fell over his shoulder and Harry began to wonder quietly how long Draco's hair actually was when unbraided. Draco looked as if he had only woken up five minutes ago. He was wearing his riding gear, but his sleepy expression gave him away.

"I don't _actually_ want to bleed him dry, Potter," Draco clarified, resting his elbows on the table and his chin on the palms of his hands. "Why do you ask? Don’t tell me you’re scared?"

"Well, we're roommates. I could hardly defend myself if you tried to strangle me in my sleep. If I remember correctly you–" Harry began but was furiously interrupted by Ron.

"I'm gonna stop you there, mate! Whenever bed-escapades are discussed, no matter which direction, I’d rather not be present."

Harry gave Ron a look that was roughly the equivalent of giving him the finger. Meanwhile, Blaise choked on his orange juice and tried to hide his laughter with a cough. Draco just cocked an eyebrow and looked back and forth between his best friend and Ron as if he could stare an explanation out of them.

"I’m not supposed to understand that, right?"

Before Ron could do any more damage, Harry spoke up. "Lockhart! We talked about Lockhart."

Harry's distraction worked right away. He could practically see Draco's face darkening. But then he focused on a spot behind Harry and froze. Blaise followed Draco's gaze and his expression instantly shifted to concern.

"Fuck," Draco hissed and sat up hastily on his chair. "Just keep your mouths shut, I'll deal with this."

Harry frowned, glanced behind him and witnessed a tall man with long blond hair, walking vigorously towards their table. Mr Malfoy's expression was so cold, even the other participants sitting at breakfast felt his presence immediately. He wore elegant clothes and held a walking stick in his hand, which probably served more for decoration than for support. But it did its effect. Mr Malfoy already looked imperious without the cane, with it he was only more frightening.

"Draco," Mr Malfoy greeted his son composed and stopped at the head of the table between Ron and Harry. His attention, however, was entirely focused on Draco.

The latter put on an almost identically composed expression and nodded politely. "Father."

Mr Malfoy's gaze fell on Draco's hair. He pursed his lips as if to say something. There was a glint of reproof in his otherwise vacant eyes. "Interesting coiffure."

Draco tensed up even more. "I overslept, and there was no time to –"

"That's _no_ reason to be walking about like that," Mr Malfoy interrupted him coldly.

Next to Harry, Draco audibly inhaled and Harry decided to intervene. Before he could change his mind, he cleared his throat. "Actually, sir, I think Draco's hair looks rather splendid like that. Blond, long hair can easily make you look as stiff as a post.”

Harry honestly didn't know what possessed him to say _that_ , but something inside him made it hard not to throw himself between Draco and his father. The tension was already palpable in the air, whether he was the target of Mr Malfoy's piercing gaze or Draco didn’t make a difference. Ron looked at Harry across the table with wide eyes, what Blaise and Draco thought, Harry preferred not to know at all.

"And you are?" Mr Malfoy asked slowly, fixing his gaze on Harry.

Harry _knew_ arseholes. He'd had a teacher once who was the biggest arsehole. Not this giving-more-homework-than-necessary-arsehole, but the bullying-students-because-it's-fun-arsehole. The Dursleys had been arseholes. They hadn't raised Harry as much as they mistreated him. If anyone deserved the title “arsehole”, it was the Dursleys.

Draco was no arsehole. One might think so when one met him, especially in his bad-tempered moments, but even then, he didn't really do justice to the classic arsehole. He seemed more like a cornered animal trying to escape by force. In Draco's case, by degradation.

His father, however, was an arsehole. One of the Prof. Snape kinds that one hated, even if deep down one suspected that there was a story behind the disgusting facade. But Harry wasn’t here to understand Mr Malfoy, he was here because he knew how to deal with arseholes. Under no circumstances would he take shit from this man, who truly looked as stiff as a post.

"Potter. My name is Harry Potter!"

"You’ve got an interesting taste, Mr Potter," Mr Malfoy said calmly, mockery drenching his voice. Before Harry could even think of answering, he felt a foot from Draco's direction smash painfully against his shin, and Mr Malfoy turned back to his son. "Draco, I'd be much obliged if we could have a private word after your breakfast."

Draco became even tenser beside Harry. "No, there’s no time. Potter and I have to mend the fence of the paddock." Harry threw Draco a questioning look, but the blond kept looking at his father as if Harry wasn't even there.

"I’m sure all activities can be rescheduled. Your mother –" began Mr Malfoy but was interrupted by Draco.

"I'm afraid that's no longer possible. I've already assured it to Mrs Longbottom. I'm sorry, Father." Draco sounded chilly, almost colder than his father.

Mr Malfoy looked reproachfully at his son. He seemed affronted to be interrupted and Draco's contradiction was quite unwelcome. But then something changed in his expression and he nodded suddenly. "Suit yourself then. I'll see you at four."

And with that, the man turned and walked out of the dining hall with big, firm steps. As soon as the wooden door fell into the lock Draco took an audible breath next to Harry and slumped on his chair.

"For heaven’s sake, I can't _believe_ how _stupid_ you are," Blaise snapped at Draco, his tension had disappeared as well. Only Ron still looked as if he had just seen a ghost. "And you don't have to grin so smugly, Harry. You've _both_ just made things worse!"

Harry opened his mouth to defend himself, but Draco cut him off. " _Shut up_ , Zabini. I know what I'm doing!"

Blaise groaned in frustration and began to massage his temples mechanically. He seemed to have had and lost this discussion hundreds of times before. "You don’t. You know how your father thinks. You can't just –"

"Precisely! I _know_ how he thinks. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find Mrs Longbottom before my father does." As he spoke, Draco rose and moved the chair to the table. "I hope you have some knowledge of fences, Potter. Meet me at the back entrance in ten minutes." And with that, Draco turned on his heel and hurried with giant strides to the door of the dining hall.

Harry blinked a few times to gather himself, then frowned. "He- He lied to his father?"

Blaise sighed, dropped his hands and nodded. "Of course he did. If he's not at the back entrance in ten minutes, the lie is busted and he was lynched by his father."

While Blaise continued his breakfast with another sigh, Ron next to him only grew paler. "And I thought _my_ mum was bad."

Harry couldn't help but laugh.

~

Draco arrived at their meeting place about 15 minutes later, but fortunately, he still looked alive. _Very_ much alive, in fact.

In Harry's stomach area, something painfully sweet contracted when he saw the blond walking towards him with a content smile. The smile would have been trigger enough for Harry's speechlessness, but the real reason was _so much better_.

Draco Malfoy was wearing a ponytail.

Not just any ponytail, no, it sat high on the back of his head, swaying from right to left with every step the blond walked. It wouldn't have been Draco's hair if the front strands hadn't fallen loose around his face, framing it in a delightful way. Harry simply melted away.

"Take this." Draco saved his words of greeting and instead handed Harry a rucksack that had seen better days. Harry reluctantly accepted it but raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Tools for the fence. Mrs Longbottom wasn’t particularly pleased that we're skipping the morning activity, but agreed when I promised her that we would bring one of the ponies for the farrier from the paddocks."

Harry nodded and shouldered the surprisingly heavy rucksack. He tried his best not to stare too much at Draco, though that was probably an impossibility. The blond didn't notice, though, he seemed very pleased with himself and strutted past Harry and out of the guesthouse. Harry hurried to keep up.

It was a warm summer's day, the sun wasn’t yet burning down too hard on them, only a few white clouds could be seen against an otherwise light blue sky. A gentle wind blew from the west, the crickets chirped and the gravel crunched underneath their shoes.

The green coloured nature was so beautiful and at the same time so uninteresting to Harry. It was a shame, it deserved more appreciation, but Harry's attention already belonged to someone else. Rather than watching the bumblebees buzz or the poppies grow, he preferred to spend his time gazing furtively at Draco, who walked carefree along the gravel path beside him, certainly leading them towards the paddocks.

This sight was admittedly more interesting than the perfection of nature. Why observe creation when he could so easily wallow in Draco's sight? The ponytail was, to put it mildly, fascinating. On closer inspection, Harry discovered that it wasn’t just swaying from right to left, but also bouncing up and down a bit. This spoke for the spring in Draco's step and to notice this quality in Draco was just _cute_.

Draco was actually nobody one would call cute. His features weren't soft enough, his eyes weren't warm enough, his smile wasn't gentle enough, and his personality was definitely not heartwarming enough. But something about the way he wrinkled his nose, tilted his head or tried to hide an amused smile was indeed cute.

And a spring in his step that made his ponytail bounce was cute, too. That was a completely objective statement, or at least that's what Harry was trying to convince himself to believe. Oh for fuck’s sake, maybe Ron was right and his obsession was developing unhealthy tendencies. But as long as Draco didn't mind, it was fine, wasn't it?

Harry didn't have a lot of experience with "infatuation", but the experience he had only confirmed him. It was perfectly all right for him to find people attractive. It was all right to find _Draco_ attractive. And cute. And beautiful. And fascinating. There was nothing wrong with appreciating someone.

The only problem that arose was that Harry wasn’t very well versed in the field of wooing. First, he had to find someone he found attractive enough, then he had to admit to himself that he found this person attractive enough, then he had to have the courage to decide to make a move and then he had to _make_ this move and that was just too much to ask from him.

He wasn’t _shy_ , would even call himself confident, but hell! This involved too much initiative and contemplations for one person. So he preferred to just go with it and let the future come to him. Sooner or later Draco would notice that Harry's obsession couldn't be of a complete heterosexual nature and then, yes, then it was Draco's turn to _make decisions_.

If Harry thought about it, Draco would probably get it later rather than sooner, but Harry didn’t lack patience as long as he could dive into the sight of Draco in the meantime. And he did. Even though he felt more than insane to walk along the path next to the blond and look at him as if he had never seen a human before.

"Potter?"

Harry blinked as Draco's voice interrupted his thoughts. They had reached the back of the mare's paddock and stopped. Harry had been a little too distracted by Draco's ponytail to notice.

"This is it," Draco prompted at Harry's bewildered look. And he was right. Two wooden posts were missing from the fence, which were only replaced by plastic posts at the moment. The new wooden posts lay ready in front of them, their task would be to ram them into the ground and then attach the hooks for the fence litz wires. A feasible task, Harry thought, but the look on Draco's face said otherwise.

"Let’s do this then," Harry said, plopped the rucksack onto the meadow in front of him and began to look for the necessary tools inside. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see Draco sitting down on the ground between long blades of grass. "You're not going to help me, are you?"

"Whatever you're implying, consider it confirmed," Draco replied, sinking back into the green. Harry snorted and spared himself the comment that this had actually been Draco's idea. Instead, he took the tools and walked a few steps to the position of the first post.

"We’d normally need a post hole driver, it’s going to take forever with the sledgehammer," Harry thought aloud as he pulled the plastic post out of the ground and replaced it with the wooden post.

"Mhm, anything you say, Potter," Draco replied disinterestedly, not even looking up. Unless Harry was mistaken, he had his eyes closed and was just basking. What a lazy piece of –

"Oh my God, _gross!"_ Draco suddenly sat up and crawled away from the patch of grass where he'd just sat. " _Fucking_ insects," he cursed under his breath, and Harry burst out laughing. A panicked, crawling Draco was a bloody funny sight after all. "That's not _funny!_ They’re bastards," Draco lamented, paused at some point and looked around suspiciously. Then he wrinkled his nose in annoyance. "Great, and here the earth is wet. I just wanted to relax _for once_ but –"

The rest Harry simply ignored and took off his shirt instead. It would get wet from his sweat anyway, so it didn't make any difference whether he gave it to Draco or kept it on. He crumpled the shirt up and then threw it unerringly at Draco's head, who looked up in surprise and froze at the sight of Harry.

"Here, Your Highness. Sit on it!" Harry smiled contentedly, but Draco's expression didn’t change. He still stared at Harry with big eyes and very slowly, almost too slowly, his cheeks turned a soft pink. Harry frowned, but when Draco's eyes fluttered southwards it dawned on him. Could it be? Was that really the first time Draco had seen him shirtless? Harry's grin just widened. "What? Do you like what you see?"

Draco instantly lowered his gaze and stared intently at an indefinable spot in front of him as he plucked Harry's shirt from his shoulder and hurriedly spread it out in front of him to sit on it. His cheeks had meanwhile taken on a red hue. "Pretty cocky, Potter," he murmured, obviously struggling to keep the last shred of self-respect.

"Honestly, I'm just adapting to my surroundings," Harry grinned smugly. His stomach felt as if dozens of centipedes were running a marathon in it, it was truly beautiful.

"Oh _please,_ " Draco rolled his eyes in Harry's direction, but then focused on self-control rather than a witty answer.

Taking the hint, Harry set about hammering the posts into the ground and attaching the hooks. But the satisfied smile wouldn’t leave his face. Even when his muscles began to complain and the heat became unbearable, Harry felt better than he had in a long time. Perhaps it helped that he could clearly see from the corners of his eyes, that Draco was watching him with eagle eyes and that the soft pink glow just wouldn't fade from his cheeks.

Perhaps Harry was wrong and Draco would see Harry in a different light sooner rather than later.

~

"Her name is Katla," Draco began to explain, while he put a halter on a maroon-coloured mare. "She’s Nott's pony, but she lost a horseshoe yesterday. Hence the farrier."

It was sometime later, it had taken quite a long time to repair the fence, which was entirely due to Draco's laziness. Eventually, however, Harry had finally finished the work, he had taken his shirt again (not without a pert grin, which Draco had ignored with an upraised chin) and then they had set off to look for the pony to take to Mrs Longbottom. Harry had left the rucksack by the plastic posts; someone would come later to pick it up with a car.

"Katla like the volcano?" Harry asked, watching Draco pet Katla's nose.

Draco raised his head in amazement and nodded. "Someone has been paying attention in geography class. I’m deeply impressed."

A wry smile twisted Harry’s lips and he gave Draco the finger. Draco bit his lip to hide his laugh and even quickly turned away. Perhaps it was better that way. Draco's lip-biting was at least as much a part of Harry's weakness as Draco's hair.

"Would you like to ride?" Draco asked and turned back to Harry, who only frowned sceptically. "Why walk when we have a pony?"

And with that, Draco made an inviting gesture towards Katla and, when Harry didn't move on his own, grabbed his upper arm boldly and pushed him towards the mare. Katla didn’t exactly belong to the small type of pony and of course, didn’t wear a saddle. A little over-challenged Harry threw a look at Draco.

"Don't be shy," Draco said amusedly, but then came closer and gave Harry a leg-up, while at the same time holding Katla by the lead rope. Draco was much stronger than he looked, so Harry sat on the back of the pony less than five seconds later. To keep his balance, Harry reached into the dark mane of the horse. Meanwhile, Draco wiped his palms on Harry's jodhpurs. Harry almost wheezed at the touch but remembered just in time what was within the rules of etiquette.

"Okay, now slide back," Draco instructed. Harry gave Draco another sceptical look but followed the instruction. Draco tied the lead rope to the halter so that it acted as a rein. Then he reached into the mane of the pony, looked estimating at Harry, took a little run-up and then jumped onto the horse's back. Well, he pulled himself up more than he actually jumped, otherwise he would probably have hit Harry with his foot. But this left Harry unharmed and Draco sat in front of him on Katla's back in no time. Now was _definitely_ the moment to be overwhelmed.

"Um," Harry uttered eloquently, he had no idea what he had expected when Draco had suggested riding, but that hadn't been it.

"Come on," Draco said, glancing intently over his shoulder at Harry. "You may slide forward again."

Oh _shit_. Harry tried very hard to calm his racing heart. "I – uh... I have to touch you for that." Draco frowned and eyed Harry curiously. He cleared his throat and forced himself to look at Draco. " _Can_ I touch you?"

Suddenly, Draco's face cleared up and an amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "It's good to know you're actually listening to me, Potter. And _yes_ , you may touch me." Shaking his head and still visibly amused, Draco turned to face the front again.

Harry exhaled audibly once more, then slowly slid closer to Draco's back until his thighs touched Draco's and Draco's ponytail tickled the tip of Harry's nose. When he made no further signs of movement, Draco clicked his tongue and Katla made a jerky step forward.

" _Fuck_ ," slipped out of Harry’s mouth and he reflexively grabbed Draco's waist. The blond only laughed and spurred Katla to walk faster. Harry was now clinging more to Draco than just holding on. He crossed his forearms in front of Draco's stomach. This was bound to fail, one too fast movement and Harry would simply pull them both into the abyss.

Draco, apparently completely blind to the risk, spurred Katla on so that she almost changed into a light tölt. "Care for something _faster?"_ he asked casually as if it wasn't the suggestion of pure suicide. "Galloping bareback is the most liberating feeling imaginable!"

Harry liked to believe Draco. But he was also sure that Draco didn't usually have an inexperienced rider clinging to him when he galloped bareback across the paddock. So he just made a sound that meant anything but agreement. Draco interpreted it as agreement anyway and clicked his tongue again.

Katla jumped smoothly into the tölt, she didn't make a jerky movement and yet Harry only pressed himself closer to Draco. The speed was _fucking_ frightening and he felt clearly too close to the abyss, but there was more. The feeling of freedom, which spread slowly but surely through Harry's veins, as soon as he felt the wind in his hair. And Draco. More precise Draco's body pressed close to Harry's, nipped any logical thought in the bud.

Draco was warm but not uncomfortable, compared to the summer heat he had almost a cooling effect. He was slim, but not exactly bony. Harry could feel the contours of his spine on his chest, but he didn't have the feeling of being impaled. Rather, Draco's back radiated the need to be hugged and Harry was too happy to comply. And then, inevitably, there was Draco's bottom, to which Harry, in wise foresight, kept as much distance from as possible. To be allowed to touch didn't mean to be allowed to _molest_ and Harry was too busy not to die anyway. He had no time to think of an inappropriate boner.

But he didn't have to, because Draco clicked his tongue once more. The paddock entrance wasn’t far away. But instead of falling into a soft gallop as desired, Katla changed into trot and Harry couldn't even let go before he fell.

With a "thud" Harry hit the ground ungentle, bottom first, and immediately felt another unpleasant pressure on his chest when Draco landed halfway on top of him. The pressure disappeared from his chest; Draco had rolled away from him. And then Draco burst into laughter. Harry wasn't sure what was so bloody funny, the impact hadn't been painless after all, but Draco's laughter infected him instantly.

Harry didn't know how long the two of them just lay on their backs in the meadow and laughed. At some point, he could only guess whether his stomach hurt from the impact or from laughing. But in the end, it didn't matter, because the sight of Draco – _hell_ , it was worth it!

Their laughter slowly faded away, first turning into giggles and then being replaced by the chirping of crickets and the humming of bees. Harry turned his head towards Draco, who was already looking at him. The storm-grey eyes studied him without judgement, only gentleness could be read in them. There was a soft smile on his lips and a light blush was covering his cheeks.

_Oh_ , Harry thought. _Him? Him!_

"You know, Zabini is right. That was eminently stupid of you earlier. Impressive but stupid," Draco said, his smile becoming a little brighter.

Harry's gaze fell on Draco's lips. They were so close, it couldn't have been fifteen centimetres. If he wanted, he could just lean forward and...

"My father only wants the best for me. There's no point in rebelling against him," Draco continued, turning his face to the sky, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Harry eyed Draco's profile intently and watched a ladybug clumsily climb over a strand of blond hair on the ground. "Does he know what's best for you?"

Draco bit his lips, the lines on his forehead cleared and he sighed softly. "Perhaps. Perhaps not." He turned his head back to Harry. "But Zabini is right. He was there this morning because he was able to arrange another training session with Lockhart in the afternoon. Mother already told me last night, but I –" Draco broke off and Harry understood.

"Sometimes," Draco tried again, turned away and swallowed. "Sometimes, I take my chagrin out on the wrong people. I know now that it's wrong. I didn't always know... Granger is –"

"I know," Harry interrupted him. He didn't want Draco to feel he had to open up. "We all have a past."

Draco looked at Harry again. Eyes wide, something indefinable in them, making Harry's heart go crazy. He was sure Draco would tell him about his past eventually. Not today, and rightly so. They had time, they would open the jam jars one by one. There was no need to rush things.

Harry turned his face to the sun before he spoke. "You know I meant it, right? I didn’t contradict your father out of defiance."

When Draco didn't answer, Harry looked at him again. The blond's expression showed genuine surprise. Harry wondered how Draco could be _so_ blind. It wasn't exactly as if Harry was staring in a particularly _subtle_ way.

"You like my hair?" Draco asked with a seriousness that almost made Harry laugh hysterically. “ _Like”_ was without question the understatement of the century.

"You could say that, yes," he replied, the emerging smile simply couldn’t be suppressed.

"Good," Draco returned with an amused grin, then rolled over to his side so that he was suddenly much closer to Harry's face. So close that Harry could _feel_ Draco's breath on his skin and he lost all ability to think logically. "Next time, tell that to _me_ and not to my father."

And with that, Draco got up, grimaced and rubbed his thigh where he had landed on, then held out a hand to Harry. It took Harry two seconds to realise that he was hopelessly fucked. Then he returned Draco's smile and grasped the pale hand.

~

"Oof, that looks bad," Ron commented on the sight of Harry's back. Harry turned gauchely in front of the mirror and tried to take a look at the painful spot himself. A bruise spread over his right shoulder blade and under his armpits. Harry pursed his lips, _obviously_ this had to happen to him.

After he had returned to the farmstead with Draco, _walking_ , mind you, they had taken Katla to her farrier's appointment and had then attended the last minutes of the morning activity (learning to clean horse tack). To be completely honest, Harry didn’t really mourn that he had missed this lesson. After lunch, Draco had disappeared to Feykir and Harry had taken a necessary shower. By now it was late afternoon and Harry and Ron were in Harry’s and Draco's room in the bathroom. There they inspected the result of the impact, actually, Harry was inspecting and Ron was typing on his mobile phone screen.

"I almost died, Ron! You could at least pretend to care," Harry complained, threw another disgruntled look in the mirror and then left the bathroom.

Ron followed him without looking up from his phone. "Hermione showed me this chess app because there are no competent opponents here and I swear I won't let a bot beat me just because it says _'extra hard'!”_ Because Harry only grumbled annoyed, Ron looked up for a second. "You fell off a _pony_ , how bad can that be?"

Harry pretended that Ron had insulted his honour and his best friend even laughed a little before he went back to his game. But Ron wouldn't be Ron if he couldn't multitask. "Did he hurt himself, too? Is this some kind of twisted version of a hickey for you lads?"

Harry stared at the redhead in disbelief before he dropped onto his bed and shook his head in stunned bewilderment. " _What the fuck_ , Ron?"

"You can't just tell me you disappear all morning and then come back and there are _mysterious marks_ on your back... I’m not blind, mate." Ron threw Harry a lewd grin over the edge of his phone screen.

"They're not _mysterious marks_. We _fell_ , Ron. _Fell!_ _"_ Harry kept shaking his head, then stood up and went to his wardrobe. Ron just muttered something about, " _Of course_ , you _just_ fell." Harry ignored it.

He was just about searching for a new T-shirt in his wardrobe when the door flew open and Draco entered the room with a tortured expression on his face. He paid no further attention to Ron's presence, took off one of his riding boots while he was still walking and then stopped in mid-movement, as soon as he noticed Harry, who was still standing in front of his wardrobe shirtless.

It took Draco a full five seconds to collect himself, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear (the high ponytail had been replaced by a low bun in the neck) and then focused his attention back to his boots. "Looks painful," he said without looking at Harry.

Ron cleared his throat. _Of course_ , he was now no longer focused on his mobile phone. "Well then, _Harry_ ," he started and gave him a meaningful look. " _I'll be off, then_."

Before Ron left the room, he turned once more in the doorway and beamed at them. "Don't hurt yourselves, boys!" And then the door slammed shut.

Draco raised an eyebrow inquiringly, but Harry felt Draco's tension leave his body as soon as they were alone. "Your best friend is a mystery unto himself."

Harry smiled at Draco’s attempt not to say anything condescending about Ron. Meanwhile, he turned to Draco and strolled towards him as casually as possible. "How's your thigh?" He stopped in front of Draco, who stood a little helplessly in the middle of the room with one riding boot in his hand and the other on his foot.

"Been better," Draco admitted, his eyes glued on Harry.

Harry took another small step forward and then, without breaking eye contact, grabbed the riding boot from Draco's hand. "Did the training go well anyway?"

Draco's eyebrows twitched as if they weren't sure whether to be confused or amused. "It's Lockhart. Either way, the training is for nought."

Harry nodded sympathetically and then his brain just shut down. Continuing to look at Draco, he knelt before the blond, grabbed his still-dressed riding boot and waited patiently until Draco had recovered from his brief shock and lifted his leg a little. With ease, Harry took the boot off, then broke eye contact, got up and placed the two shoes next to Draco's bed. When he turned back to Draco, the blond looked at him with slightly reddened cheeks and an indefinable expression on his face. Harry's heart turned a somersault.

"What?"

Draco exhaled in a controlled fashion, then walked towards Harry until he was standing right in front of him. "You – If you ask, I won't say no."

Harry blinked confused. Did that mean...? Oh, _hell!_ Why did Draco have to stand so close to him? His brain was already undetectable and Draco's presence didn't make it any _easier_. Draco's gaze fell on Harry's lips for a split second, but he didn't move. He _waited_. And he was hoping for something. Oh _God_ , of course, he was. Nervously, Harry wet his lips, leaned in and –

Draco dodged. Only a little bit, but Harry registered the movement immediately. _Fuck_ , what else did he need? Or had Harry misread the signs? No, it couldn't be. _Draco_ had come to _him_. _He_ had made the first move. And then it finally dawned on him.

"Can I kiss you?" Harry whispered more than he spoke. His voice throaty, as if he hadn't spoken for hours.

A hint of a smile formed on Draco's lips, then he nodded and Harry kissed Draco.

Draco's lips were soft, so damn soft. And warm. As if they had waited for Harry’s kiss and prepared for him. The kiss was gentle, felt like morning dew dripping from petals in the early morning hours. Fresh, timid, innocent. Harry almost became dizzy, it felt like overstimulation.

Looking for support, Harry reached for Draco's waist, pulled him closer, deepened the kiss, set fire to the timidity. And Draco responded. He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, pressed their bodies even closer together, soaking up the new feeling as if his life depended on it. Perhaps it did. Harry sighed into the kiss, unable to explain why he had delayed this moment for so long.

Heavenly. Draco's lips on his felt heavenly.

And then the blond separated from Harry and, breathing heavily, remained for a moment only millimetres away from Harry's lips. Harry almost didn’t dare to open his eyes but when he did, the most vivid grey that he had ever seen in his life awaited him.

"We – We could leave it at that. It’s – Oh, _fuck it!"_

And Draco kissed Harry again. Much more urgent than before. Harry truly had to try hard to keep up. He let his hand gently slide down Draco's waist, Draco responded with a pleasant sigh into the kiss, which gave Harry goosebumps at once. Draco's fingers found Harry's neck, slid up his cheek, to his nape and into his hair. _Hell_ , this was a lot! The absolute overstimulation.

Harry tried to soften the kiss, to bring more gentleness to the movement. Draco sighed, playfully bumped his nose against Harry's and buried his hand in the hair at the nape of Harry's neck. Very slowly, Harry could feel control slipping away from him, completely surrendering to Draco and forgetting who he was.

But before Harry lost himself, Draco parted from Harry's lips again and at the same time took a step back. His cheeks were coloured with this soft pink shimmer, his lips dark red and moist. Harry almost couldn’t control himself. As if Draco could read his mind, he took another step back. His gaze lay on Harry's lips, but he took another step back, he seemed more than helpless.

"Dinner's almost ready," Harry's brain began to work again.

Draco's face lit up in relief. "Yes. Yes! We should go."

"Yes. And then we have to find someone to beat Ron at chess," Harry added, stepping up to Draco, smiling softly and then opened the door for them.

Draco gave Harry another doubtful look, then he returned the smile tentatively and walked through the door with more or less firm steps. Harry followed him at a reasonable distance.

_Holy. Shit_. This had been fire and water, heaven and hell. Harry felt at least as overwhelmed as Draco had just looked. There was simply no more appropriate word for this than overstimulation.

~

Seven o'clock. The alarm clock went off with its usual pesky beeping. Harry jerked out of dreamless sleep, then groaned and stretched before blindly groping for the alarm clock.

Then it was silent. Harry frowned. Something was missing, something essential was missing.

It was Draco. Draco had neither thrown a pillow at his head nor made an annoyed comment and that was highly unusual. Harry reached for his glasses, put them on and then glanced across the room to Draco's bed. The light was dull, but Draco's light hair almost glowed in the dawn light.

Draco lay turned away from Harry, his hair was braided as usual and was lying on the pillow as if draped. Harry sighed and let himself fall back into his own pillow. Perhaps Draco was just sleeping particularly soundly. Perhaps it was a coincidence that he didn't even make a noise on the next morning of their first kiss.

Or it wasn't a coincidence.

Doubts are the death of every glimmer of hope. They sneak up on you and when their trap closes, they devour you skin and hair. It's like a chain reaction. One doubt is followed by the next, and at some point, each part of the scaffold of hope seems faulty and unstable.

Harry gnawed at his lower lip. He had understood why Draco had kept his distance last night. If Draco had only felt half of the emotion Harry had experienced when they kissed, then that was an understandable reaction. Distance was good for sorting oneself out. For reflecting. For getting things straight. And for letting this complete overstimulation cool down.

Harry had also understood that Draco would need time. He wasn't cold towards Harry, just distant. Respecting that, Harry had deliberately gone to their room a little earlier and had pretended to be asleep when Draco entered the room half an hour later. He knew it had been the right thing to do that evening, but he didn't know if it was any good for Draco to continue ignoring him.

What if he would? Would he pretend the kiss never happened? Would he keep his distance? Was Draco really able to stay away?

Harry wasn't. He felt like a toddler having his first taste of a sugar rush. It was intoxicating, and he wanted to experience it again and again. Equating Draco with a drug was certainly not quite right, but the blond had the potential to become his addiction and Harry couldn’t help but notice that he was prone.

What if Draco backed out? Harry should have expected the cowardly tendencies, it would certainly not be surprising. Draco liked to pretend he was rebellious, but actually, he preferred to avoid _real_ confrontation. Just when he lost control, another side of him took over that Harry couldn’t yet fully assess. Blaise knew that side, Hermione knew that side, and Harry was sure that if they knew Draco long enough, the others knew about it too. But Harry didn't know it, he had only made a fleeting acquaintance with it and suddenly this felt like a severe disadvantage.

Harry _liked_ Draco. That much was certain. Did Draco like Harry too? _Fuck_ , these self-doubts were insane. Draco wouldn't have kissed him if he _didn't_ like him. Sometimes, Harry worried for no reason at all. _For heaven’s sake_ , he wasn't usually so insecure, so _why_ did Draco have to make him so nervous?

Draco felt like thin ice. Like a risk to his own heart. Just one wrong step and the ice would break, cold water would swallow him and numbness would spread through his ice-cold body. Harry had no problem with risk, he preferred to take risks rather than live a dreary life. But this was about his heart and he had to remember that it was his job to protect it.

Doubt made it hard to see clearly. Trust was something Harry found difficult to establish, perhaps it was the jam jars full of emotion or pure intuition. Maybe both. If only Draco could give him some kind of sign. Something to remind him that the kiss hadn't just been a dream and hadn't been forgotten. That was all Harry needed right now.

"Potter, don't go back to sssleep... You need to feed..." Draco mumbled and sounded as if he were half asleep, but Harry's stomach reacted instantly. This didn't sound as if Draco was ignoring him.

This felt like the sign he had been waiting for.

With a little too much verve Harry climbed out of his bed and went into the bathroom. _Hell_ , he was Harry Potter and a Potter didn’t let unfounded doubts get him down! A day full of possibilities lay ahead of him, he wouldn’t let it pass unexploited!

~

"Partying? With booze and all? Are we even allowed to do that?" Ron asked in surprise.

A good hour had passed and Ron, Harry and Hermione had joined Blaise and Draco at the breakfast table after the morning pony-tending routine. The others were in high spirits, they all talked about the night and the planned party. Especially Pansy's and Seamus' voice echoed excitedly through the whole dining hall.

"I don't see why not. We're all of age and Mrs Longbottom has known most of us since we were children. She trusts that we won't overdo it," Blaise explained, shoving his honey bun between his teeth.

"We don’t have any riding lessons on weekends, so partying has become kind of a tradition. It started with beer and champagne –"

"– And ended with Sex on the Beach," Draco finished Hermione's sentence dryly. Hermione threw an uncertain look at him, but Draco didn't seem set on quarrelling, so she smiled vaguely.

"And who's going to get the booze?" Harry asked curiously, he increasingly liked the casual handling of the horse-riding holidays on Weeping Willow Farmstead.

"Why? Are you offering yourself?" Draco asked as a counter-question, he had already finished his breakfast and looked at Harry attentively.

"Well, I've got a scooter…," Harry returned slowly.

"Wait, _really?"_ Draco's eyes glistened with honest enthusiasm and Harry bit his lip to hide his burgeoning grin.

"Yeah! It's a Vespa GTS 300, in my opinion, the most powerful model on the market. The previous model can't compete with it at all, the engine is much more powerful. Depending on the torque up to 18 per cent more power, you can't imagine what an effect this has. My favourite change, however, is that they’ve revised the continuously variable transmission, which results in a –" Under the table, Ron kicked hard against Harry's shin. Harry threw Ron an indignant look, but took the hint and stopped his rant. "– a better driving experience."

Draco, like the rest of the group (except for Ron, who had heard this talk enough already), looked at Harry with perplexity but amusement. "I see. Sounds... _interesting_."

Harry rolled his eyes and muttered something about "Nothing but horses in mind" and got an honest laugh from the others at the table.

"Theo gets the booze. His family has connections to good breweries," Blaise then replied to Harry's original question. For a while, the topic revolved around different types of beer and wine (Draco became surprisingly passionate when someone even hinted that cheap wine could taste even remotely okay and nipped any argument for it in the bud), but eventually, the topic shifted to other participants from previous holidays.

"Padma is definitely coming, she'll probably bring her sister. Terry and Katie are still thinking about it," Hermione enumerated when it came to who would join them in the evening.

"Krum is coming too," Draco added, his posture carefully tensed, his eyes focused on Hermione.

The brown-haired woman returned the look sceptically, then turned back to her breakfast. "I know, Viktor texted me yesterday."

Harry could practically see Draco's eyes grow cooler. "Sure he did."

Blaise cleared his throat especially loudly and gave Draco a warning look. Draco pursed his lips but then sank back against the back of the chair. Hermione eyed him briefly but then left him at no answer.

"Who’s Viktor?" Ron asked as casually as possible, one could still see the curiosity in his face. Harry was almost a little grateful that Ron asked. Something was in the air here and he wanted to know who was responsible for this tension.

"Viktor Krum. He's quite a well-known show rider, but not much older than us. Draco met him at a championship and they got to know each other, that’s why he spent a summer here two years ago. Since then, he has been showing up here from time to time. He's a pleasant company and has given me quite valuable riding tips," Blaise answered emphatically unconcernedly. Both Hermione and Draco kept quiet and were suddenly very interested in their respective plates.

Harry and Ron exchanged a confused look, which Blaise noticed but deliberately ignored. There was no doubt, Harry and Ron had _definitely_ missed something...

~

The day went by incredibly fast. Their riding lesson included learning the different riding figures with Ms Vector and was surprisingly much fun. Harry even did quite well and Ron mastered the tasks with ease. In the afternoon the horse-tack-cleaning lesson was continued, but Draco was still missing. Harry's shoulder still hurt from time to time and he couldn't help wondering if Draco’s thigh hurt as well. In any case, it didn't stop the blond from training with Feykir.

The mood was exuberant all day long. Everyone was feverishly awaiting the evening and Harry was also infected by it. A little bit he was interested in this Viktor, but most of all he was looking forward to spending time with Draco again.

He only showed up after dinner and disappeared straight to their room. Harry was tempted to follow him, he had already exchanged his riding gear for jeans and a loose shirt, but it seemed like a good opportunity to talk to Draco alone. Neville stopped Harry, as he asked him to help with the preparations for the party. And so Harry helped. He prepared the drinks and snacks in the dining hall, discussed a suitable playlist with Pansy and was then begged by Luna to play something with his guitar for a quarter of an hour. Ginny saved him and pulled the blonde by the collar into another corner of the room. Ginny owed him that much without question.

The dining hall soon resembled the perfect room for a party. The lights were dimmed, the music resounded through the speakers and cheered the mood up enormously. The tables were moved aside, with drinks and snacks placed on them. Neville had somehow managed to construct a sitting area made of pillows in a corner, all in all, Harry was highly satisfied with their work.

And then, little by little, the others showed up, among them Draco. He wore his hair again in that irresistibly high ponytail, that was doing _things_ to Harry that he wouldn't even dare say. He also wore tight dark jeans and a loose white top, which was cut just right to show off his collarbone and drive Harry half crazy. Had Draco not been besieged by Pansy, he probably would have dragged him into a dark corner. It also helped that Seamus handed out the first round of drinks.

The evening began, of course, with drinking games, which particularly affected Neville. After a while the group split, some of them were drunk enough to dance (among them, of course, Ginny and Luna), some of them were going for the snacks and talked to each other in smaller groups, some of them, Neville to be exact, were too drunk to do anything at all. Harry made it his business to assist Neville and took the young man to the pillow sitting area.

Fortunately, Neville wasn’t the unhealthy sort of drunk. He let Harry guide him without question, sank down on the pillows and looked as if he was floating in his own world. Harry took the precaution of staying with him. For good, he had to chase Seamus away, who was trying to slip more alcohol into Neville's drink. Because Neville wasn’t exactly the most active conversationalist in this state, Harry sipped his beer thoughtlessly, also sank deeper into the mountain of pillows and looked around relaxed.

The atmosphere was exuberant, there were some unfamiliar faces present, but they all seemed to know each other well. On the dance floor, Ron tried to get Hermione to dance with him and was more or less successful. Ginny was still dancing with Luna, Dean tried to dissuade Seamus from grinding up on him while he was talking to a blonde girl Harry didn't know. Pansy danced with Theo with arms wrapped tightly around each other, or rather they swayed from right to left, but it still looked cute. Blaise and Draco were talking to some people Harry didn't know. He silently wondered if Viktor was one of them, then stared at his beer bottle and tried to repress his thoughts. He knew how important patience was and he also knew that he had to be especially patient with Draco.

"How is our lightweight doing?"

Surprised, Harry lifted his head and witnessed how Draco sat down on Neville's other side. A glass of water in one hand, a sandwich in the other. Neville just grumbled as Draco tried to force the water into his hand.

Harry grinned amusedly. "According to the circumstances. You’re disturbing his peace!"

Draco made an impatient sound, then, without Neville's help, brought the glass of water to his mouth and forced him to drink it. Neville muttered quietly but swallowed and closed his eyes. Draco put the glass aside, tore a bite-sized piece off the sandwich, put it in Neville's mouth and ordered him to chew. Neville followed well-behaved but slowly. Harry watched them with fascination, it didn't look like it was the first time Draco had taken such care of Neville.

Draco raised his head and returned Harry's gaze. A slow smile touched the corners of his mouth, Harry was quite sure that his face spoke volumes. He would never be able to hide his fascination with the blond.

"How's Feykir?" Harry asked and turned a little towards Neville and Draco.

Draco tore off another piece of bread and frowned thoughtfully before answering. "I have a feeling he's lame on his right hindquarters."

Harry's gaze fell on Draco's lips. They looked at least as soft as they felt. "Maybe you two have a spiritual bond. If you hurt yourself, he hurts himself too."

Draco chuckled in amusement, looked at Harry again and tilted his head a little. His ponytail bounced against one of the pillows and a few more strands fell on Draco's face. "Seems perfectly logical, Potter. So you're into spirituality, your scooter, fence tools and your guitar... Did I forget something?"

Harry felt the heat swell on his cheeks as he wrestled the "you" that lay on the tip of his tongue down. "Um, no, that'll be most of it... And you?"

Draco lowered his gaze onto the sandwich to tear another slice off. "Professional riding takes up most of my time. My father wouldn't welcome other hobbies," he said and gently bumped his knuckles against Neville's chin to remind him to keep chewing. "Buying presents for Parkinson could theoretically be called my hobby, considering how often I pursue it."

Harry laughed. "That doesn't surprise me. She seems... insatiable!"

Draco smiled again, then turned back to Neville. For a while no one said anything, Harry just watched the movement of the pale fingers feeding Neville tirelessly. The sight shouldn’t have been as heartwarming as it was.

Before Harry knew what was happening to him, he heard himself speak. "Draco, I –"

"I feel queasy," Neville interrupted him in a pitiful voice.

"Oh _fuck!_ _Please_ throw up in Potter’s direction." As he spoke, Draco got up and helped Neville to his feet at the same time. Harry rushed to his aid at once.

"Funny. How about, don't throw up _at all?_ The bathroom next to the office should be free," Harry said, glancing at the crowded bathroom adjacent to the dining hall.

Neville willingly let himself be supported by Harry and Draco and was led out of the dining hall into the entrance area of the guesthouse. He put up a good fight, even muttered a slurred apology, which Draco particular enjoyed. They were just passing the door to the lounge when someone called Draco's name. The blond paused abruptly, bringing Harry and Neville to a halt.

"Draco! Hey! How are you?" A young man with a husky voice, broad shoulders, dark hair and eyes stepped firmly out of the lounge and eyed Draco delighted.

"Hey. I – uh... good?" Draco replied, his cheeks red and his expression uncertain. An unpleasant feeling was spreading through Harry. There was no doubt. Before him stood Viktor Krum.

Viktor's smile broadened and he raised one hand to nudge Draco's ponytail with his finger. "Cute hairstyle, suits you!"

Harry's stomach began to contract bitterly, the sensation of wanting to throw up spread through him. _Jealousy_. Harry knew he had tendencies to become possessive, but at that very moment, he would have liked nothing better than to cut off Viktor's fingers.

Neville whimpered quietly beside Harry's ear. "Draco, we have to..." Harry tried to reason. Draco gave him a nervous look but then nodded.

"Wait, I need to show you the video of my last training session. It’s going to blow your mind! You don’t mind, do you?" Viktor asked Harry, not expecting an answer, then grabbed Draco's wrist and pulled him along. Draco was clearly too surprised to resist but threw Harry an apologetic look over his shoulder before disappearing into the lounge.

Harry watched them perplexed, then groaned in annoyance. "Damn my luck," he murmured to himself. His stomach was on fire. Viktor was only spared his fate because Neville made some strange noises on Harry's shoulder and Harry preferred loyalty to his friends to revenge.

So instead of running after Draco, Harry took Neville to the nearby bathroom, sat him down in front of the loo and leaned against the door frame, blocking out the sound of Neville emptying his stomach as best as he could. Harry was angry with himself; he hadn’t minded at all when Draco had looked after Neville, but that Viktor bloke... Harry clenched his hands into fists and concentrated on slow and steady breaths.

"Sounds _delicious_ ," a voice behind Harry spoke and he immediately felt all the tension ease. "I brought you a muffin. The background noise might suck, but this is the best shit I've ever eaten!"

Ron leaned against the door frame opposite Harry, handed Harry a chocolate muffin and threw a sceptical look at Neville, who had gone quiet for a moment. Harry thanked Ron and immediately started eating the muffin. It was indeed delicious and just the thing to distract himself from unpleasant thoughts of Viktor and Draco.

"Where's your Goldilocks?" asked Ron, who watched Harry amused as he ate. Harry just shrugged and continued eating. "Let me guess. _Viktor_ turned up and took him away?" Ron asked and Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. Ron waved it off. "He just did it with Hermione. You should’ve seen her. Looked at him like he was some sort of celebrity or something.

Harry swallowed the remains of the muffin and folded his arms across his chest. "Something’s going on. And while I can understand why we shouldn't get involved; I'm definitely not going to let him make a fool of me!"

Ron frowned and handed him another muffin. "Why a fool?"

Harry took the muffin, but only held it in his hand and sighed surrenderingly. "Can we… I don’t know, _not_ talk about this? I don't know what to think anymore. One minute he's the sweetest angel towards Neville, and then he meets this bloke, and he just –"

"Mate! Hold on, did something happen between you two?" Ron interrupted him with wide eyes. Harry closed his mouth and examined the muffin in front of him with great interest. Ron chuckled in amusement. "I _knew_ it! But that's _good_. Don't worry, he'll come back to you."

Harry's heart wanted to believe Ron, something in the words of his best friend reassured him immensely. Maybe Harry was just overly jealous and got carried away. He was probably just imagining things. Yeah, that had to be it. Harry just needed to have a little faith in himself and in Draco.

A whimpering sound from Neville reminded Harry of where he actually was. "Yes, _yes_ , you're right. Can you watch him for a minute? I'll just get Blaise and we'll take him to their room."

As soon as Ron agreed Harry hurried down the hallway towards the dining hall. Just before he passed the door to the lounge, he hesitated. _Fuck it_ , Harry thought and pushed the door open. Inside, Draco, Hermione, Viktor and two people Harry didn't know were sitting on the leather sofas and chatting cheerfully. Harry's appearance didn’t go unnoticed and all heads turned to him.

Suddenly Harry didn't feel so brave after all, but now it was already too late anyway, so he smiled uneasy at the group, ignored Viktor with all his might and slowly walked towards them. "We, um, Ron and I are going to put Neville to bed with Blaise in a minute. Just –" Harry stopped next to Draco, who looked at him with big eyes. "Pansy once told me that you liked chocolate." With that, Harry handed the muffin to Draco, who was too surprised to say anything back but accepted the pastry. The two strangers in the group looked knowingly at each other, Harry ignored it, nodded at Hermione, and hurried off to finally find Blaise.

_Bloody hell_ , why was he such a _mess?_

~

It was dark. Harry was listening to the sounds of music that was too far away to recognise a certain song. Someone giggled in the hallway on the first floor. Harry would bet on Pansy, but in a drunken state, it could be almost anyone. The voices became quieter, and somewhere a door fell into the lock.

After Harry had found Blaise, they had returned to Neville and Ron. They had put Neville to bed, Blaise had stayed with Neville, Ron had returned to the party and Harry had decided to go to his room. He wasn't really in the mood to party but he couldn't sleep either. So he had been lying under the far too warm blanket for a good hour now, trying _not_ to think too much.

He heard dull footsteps on the hallway floor in front of the door, then a "click" sounded and a light shone into the room. Draco. Harry kept his eyes closed and didn’t move. Instead, he listened carefully. Draco closed the door behind him, toddled lightly past Harry's bed towards the bathroom. Again, a door was opened and closed, then it was silent.

Harry sighed and turned to the side in his bed. This was silly. At some point, he wouldn’t be able to avoid Draco, he didn't even _want_ to avoid Draco. He just didn't know what Draco wanted and that made it difficult to take the initiative. Maybe Ron was right. Maybe Harry just needed to wait for Draco to come back to him. This couldn't take forever. Well, _hopefully not_. Harry was tingling with impatience and that combined with the last vestiges of jealousy, which he was unable to suppress completely, made it hard to just hold out.

The bathroom door was opened and closed again, Harry held his breath. Draco walked nimbly to his bed, a rustle sounded. If Harry was right, Draco changed his clothes. Harry smiled in the darkness at the images that flashed before his inner eye but kept his eyes closed. Oh, how he _loved_ the youthful hormones that spurred his heart to pump blood to areas that were supposed to be asleep at this hour.

Draco didn't take long to change, and when he had finished, he didn't slip into bed as expected but walked fleet-footed in Harry's direction. Harry's heart skipped a beat when he could hear Draco kneeling beside the headboard of his bed. It was _dark_ and Draco couldn’t see him. So the blond had to guess, and that's what he did.

Slowly, tentatively and carefully, Harry felt long fingers feel his hair, only to reach their destination on his cheek. Harry's skin burned under the touch, his breath became inexorably faster.

"Are you asleep?" Draco asked softly, almost making Harry laugh. Instead, he made an approving noise and reaped a snort from Draco. The long fingers found the hair at Harry's nape of the neck and gripped a little too firmly before they began to massage the pain away. "Thank you for the muffin."

Harry's lips curled into a satisfied smile and his stomach area made room for dozens of centipedes. "If you want..." Harry faltered for a moment, but then he went on. _No backdowns_. "You can sleep here if you want."

Draco didn't hesitate, let go of Harry's hair and accepted the invitation without question. Harry scooted aside as far as he could, the beds were narrow and Draco's body radiated an alluring coolness. The blond turned to Harry, nudged Harry's nose with his own and let his hand slide back into Harry's hair. Slowly, Harry reached for Draco's waist, stroking gently over the cool fabric. Draco reacted immediately, pushing his body closer to Harry's and sighed comfortably.

Harry's heart was pounding like mad; he was so close to Draco, he could even _smell_ him. He smelled of a mixture of peppermint and vanilla and somewhere underneath there was the smell of sweet sweat. Harry licked his chapped lips, felt Draco's fingertips moving along his neck and almost gave in to the temptation.

"Draco?" Harry began instead, his hand lingered quietly on Draco's waist, only his thumb drew small circles. "Can you tell me who he is?" 

Draco pressed his body closer to Harry's, their feet entangled. "Past. Krum is just past."

And then Draco kissed Harry. He tasted of toothpaste, a touch of alcohol, and overall just perfect. The sensation of goosebumps ran through Harry's body, he drew Draco closer to the kiss. His other hand found soft hair. He could feel the shape of the braid, felt the loose strands and buried his hand in it.

Draco sighed into the kiss as if all was well. And it felt that way. As if the world around them had stopped and held its breath. Just so they could share this moment. Harry couldn't suppress a smile, everything but Draco's lips suddenly became so incredibly unimportant. It seemed so simple now that he held Draco in his arms. Doubt and jealousy were long forgotten.

Draco had come back to him. That's all Harry needed to know for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. my. god. freaking FINALLY! Took them long enough! I screamed at them cause they're so SLOW! (This is a falling hard and fast story, not a bloooody slow burn) but we got there EVENTUALLY! XD
> 
> Anyway, there's art! (There will be much more art... due to personal reasons I NEEDED a lot of drawn Drarry fluff and I have very VERY talented friends. It's not uploaded yet but it will be in the near future. I can guarantee tho that you're in for a treat!)  
> Enjoy some schmexy Draco drawn by the very best datsiro on Tumblr: https://datsiro.tumblr.com/post/626644295063093248/show-chapter-archive (Yes, yes I still can't properly link stuff on AO3, shhh leave it be, I gave up looooong ago)


	4. The Luck in the Disasters

Harry woke up the next morning because something on his chest was radiating unbearable heat. He tried to push the blanket off himself, but for some reason, it was heavier than usual. Too tired to exert himself so early, Harry just gave up. Not a minute later, his alarm clock went off and Harry flinched out of his half-sleep.

Blinking, Harry found himself in reality. The heat on his chest wasn’t coming from his blanket but Draco _fucking_ Malfoy, who had laid half on top of him in his sleep. Harry's heart skipped a beat and he gave himself a few seconds to collect himself. Draco was lying in his bed. Draco was lying in his bed and on his chest. That was _perfectly_ fine and not at all the most _exciting_ thing he could imagine, _No_. Something was stirring in his stomach and climbing steadily south. _Oh please no, just bloody no!_

A discontented murmuring sounded from Harry's chest, reminding him that the annoying beeping still filled the room. Blindly he groped around on his bed stand, which wasn’t at all easy with the extra weight on him. But he found what he was looking for and the beeping stopped. A satisfied murmur sounded and Draco snuggled even closer to Harry's already overheated body.

And now _what_? Harry was a bit overwhelmed if he was honest. Should he stay in bed? Or should he get up? Ron would certainly be waiting for him and after last night's confession, he would assume the worst or rather best if Harry left him waiting. Apart from the fact that Draco was still unhealthily eager to win this competition and they let the points for feeding the horses slip through their fingers. Draco would undoubtedly blame Harry, even if it was him who was laying on top of Harry and kept him from getting up.

But actually, Harry _wanted_ to stay in bed. It was clearly too warm, the pleasant coolness of Draco had disappeared overnight, but Harry didn't care about that with all his heart. Just the feeling of Draco's closeness, of his breath on his skin, it was enough to satisfy Harry completely. Gently Harry stroked along Draco's shoulders, down his back and up the same way again. He could have done this forever, just lying half asleep in bed with Draco and enjoying the silence, only interrupted by their calm breaths.

But Harry's wish wasn’t granted. Under his hand, Draco began to move, sluggish and paralyzed by fatigue, yet Draco slowly but surely woke up. Harry would have loved to have had his glasses on to be able to absorb this sight, but this wish also remained unfulfilled. The alternative, however, was worth the loss.

Draco stretched, sighed contentedly, leaned a little more into the caress of Harry's hand and then began to spread gentle kisses across Harry's neck. The kisses were lazy, no more than a feather-light peck and yet a wave of adrenaline shot through Harry's body, waking him up for good and all. Oh _fuck_ , Draco seemed to know how to drive Harry to madness.

"You have to get up", Draco mumbled at Harry's neck but made no attempt to move even half a centimetre away from Harry.

"Mhm," Harry returned and took the opportunity to pull Draco even closer with his hand on his back. A dissatisfied grumble from Draco brought an amused smile to Harry's face.

In the end, Draco's ambition triumphed. Five more minutes passed, Harry almost dozed off again, then Draco rolled off him all of a sudden. Puzzled by the lack of heat, Harry sat up. Someone put his glasses on and before Harry could react, Draco slipped out of Harry's bed and walked towards his own.

The sight of Draco was pure sugar. His sleeping clothes were wrinkled and his hair a disaster, but the blond didn't seem to mind. Well, more likely, he just didn't know about it yet and was in blissful ignorance. Harry was thrilled by the sight, the condition of the hair was probably largely his fault.

Draco turned to Harry, let himself sink backwards onto his bed and muttered something about "too warm". Harry refrained from laughing and stretched, the spot where his bruise was healing steadily hurt a little.

"We're going for a ride after breakfast," announced Draco, who watched Harry with tired eyes. Before Harry could answer, Draco turned away from him to keep sleeping.

Ah yes, good to know. Harry wasn't complaining about Draco making decisions without consulting his opinion. He didn’t mind more alone-time with Draco at all.

~

The ride went relatively disastrous. And that although the conditions were perfect. The weather was good but not too hot. They rode most of the time through the forest, which meant extra shade and on top of that the atmosphere under the leaf canopy of the giant deciduous trees was wonderful. 

But conditions aren’t everything. First of all, it wasn’t alone-time with Draco because Luna and Ginny invited themselves in when they heard Draco and Harry discussing their route at breakfast. That in itself was no problem. Harry liked the two of them and could have enjoyed the four of them riding together. The problem was _Ginny_.

Nothing seemed to give her more pleasure than pestering Harry and making fun of him. Draco, _of course,_ saw this as a weird kind of challenge, _nobody_ should be better at annoying Harry than he was. So he made Harry's life hell by constantly criticizing his riding skills and driving Harry mad with it.

The "loving banter" began harmlessly with:

"Lift your arse, Potter!"  
"Excuse me, _what?"_  
"Your pony has to carry you up a mountain at walk. You could certainly relieve her a little!"

Went on into:

"A _potato_ has more sense of rhythm than you! Aren’t you a musician? Shouldn't you be able to master this?"  
"I'll show you _potato!"_  
"Oh _please_. But speaking of which, do you think they'll be making purée de pommes de terre for lunch again soon? I could die for –"  
"Did you just say _mashed potatoes_ in French?"  
"Firstly, that doesn't answer my question. Secondly, since when do _you_ understand French? And –"  
"I can't _believe_ you just said mashed potatoes in _French_. _Who_ the fuck would –"  
" _And thirdly_ , I'd be much obliged if you'd stop interrupting me and shut up, Potter!"

And ended with Harry throwing a twig at Draco when he started to badmouth Ron's riding skills. Harry probably could have guessed that Andvari would shy. But he hadn't. Draco got his pony back under control in seconds, he was _fine_ and Harry still bore the consequences. For the rest of the ride he was deliberately ignored by Draco and he had to listen to half an hour of non-stop babbling from Luna about theories of hidden toxins in fly repellents for ponies.

Harry had envisioned the morning to be a little more enjoyable.

~

As soon as they returned to the farm, they took care of the horses and Draco slowly but surely forgot that he was supposed to be pouting. It helped, that Harry constantly threw him dreamy looks that didn't remain hidden from the blond. More than once, Harry found himself forgetting the world around him as he watched Draco engage in the most ordinary activities. Draco did everything with such _dedication_ , it was only understandable that combing a pony suddenly mutated into the most fascinating activity on the planet. As long as Draco was doing it, _everything_ was fascinating.

Harry would have expected Draco to react with discomfort to so much undivided attention, but the pale pink glint on his cheeks suggested to Harry that the opposite was the case. He would’ve probably never admitted it, but Draco was downright _basking_ in Harry's unspoken flattery. But it wasn't just that. No. _It turned him on._

Harry first noticed it when Draco took Andvari’s halter off, then left the stall and carefully closed the door behind him. Draco's fingers worked with such precision, that Harry couldn't have looked away. He had stopped in the middle of the stable alley, crossed his arms and pierced his teeth in his lower lip while watching Draco. Draco had noticed the look early on, he had given Harry a tiny smile and then had gone about his business seemingly unconcerned. But Harry's gaze was precise enough that he could _tell_ Draco's breath was getting quicker, the tips of his ears were turning red, he was getting hotter, causing him to tug at his shirt and there was something _hungry_ in the grey eyes.

The realisation caught Harry off guard and he probably would have grabbed the blond in the stable alley and kissed him to oblivion if Ginny and Luna hadn't scurried around him.

Draco didn't seem to be averse to the idea either, so he excused himself and Harry with a lame explanation and then dragged him by the wrist across the courtyard and into the guesthouse. Harry had no problem at all with being led by Draco. It might have looked a bit strange to the uninvolved outsider, but Harry could worry about that later. At the moment, only Draco's hand on his wrist was important and that he didn't fall up the stairs to the first floor.

Draco threw Harry an amused look over his shoulder, Harry's knees felt like Molly's Jelly. Somehow, he managed to walk down the hallway without making a complete idiot of himself. Draco pushed open the door to their room, they crossed the threshold, Harry's stomach exploded with excitement. The door fell shut behind them, Draco turned on his heel to Harry, his gaze drifted greedily to Harry's lips and –

A phone rang. _Harry's_ phone rang. Draco's face changed from _ready_ to annoyed within seconds. Quietly cursing, Harry pulled the damn thing out of his pocket, looked at the display – it was Sirius, _of course,_ it was Sirius – and rejected the call.

He loved his godfather truly, but this was no time for small talk. He tapped the display again to put the phone in silent mode, then threw it surprisingly unerringly onto his bed. It bounced once but stayed on his pillow. Harry smiled satisfied and then turned his attention back to Draco.

Draco had folded his arms across his chest, his face still annoyed. With a muttered apology on his lips, Harry took a step towards the blond. With one hand he reached for Draco's waist, but the blond skillfully dodged and took a step backwards. Harry frowned, Draco eyed him attentively. A mischievous smile worked its way across his face and into his eyes, the annoyance was so obviously insincere that Harry was sure Draco wasn't even trying to keep it up.

"What?" Harry asked he couldn’t think of anything better.

Draco tilted his head, his low ponytail fell over his left shoulder. The smile didn’t fade and he looked at Harry as expectantly as he had just before their first kiss. Only with a much greater portion of self-confidence and unmistakable desire in his eyes. Instead of answering, Draco bit his lower lip and continued to take a few more steps back.

Harry didn't need an explicit invitation to follow him. His skin tingled slightly with joyful anticipation. He suspected what Draco wanted to hear from him and he was more than willing to give it to him. "Draco –" he started, but Draco stopped because he bumped the back of his knees against the lilac-coloured sofa that stood under the big window. Harry was now standing right in front of Draco and took a moment to lose himself in the deep grey.

Draco was neither smaller nor taller than Harry, Draco towered over him by at most one little centimetre, which was not particularly noticeable considering Harry's unruly hair. This meant that Draco's eyes were just the right height for Harry to inspect them in every detail without even having to move his head. The grey was clear, like water under sunlight and yet sombre, like a thick fog on a rainy day. The eyes were framed by long, thick eyelashes, it was as if Harry was seeing them for the first time and he was no less fascinated than by Draco's scalp hair. _Damn_ , never before had Harry been so fascinated by a human, this _couldn't_ be healthy.

"Can I kiss you? Please?" Harry finally asked, the pleased smile on Draco's lips was pure redemption. Draco interlaced his fingers with Harry's, drew him closer so that their bodies met. Harry's breath faltered and Draco's smile broadened before he finally nodded.

Their lips met instantly and adopted a slow rhythm. Draco tasted of forest and sun, Harry sighed liberated. His hands grasped Draco's hips, Draco's fingers crossed behind his neck. Without interrupting the kiss, Draco pulled him onto the sofa. Harry didn't let go of Draco's hips, bent over the blond, shoved one hand in Draco's hair to deepen the kiss.

Now it was Draco's turn to sigh, Harry let one leg slide between Draco's, pressed his body as close as he could to Draco’s without suffocating him and let Draco's lips guide him. The kiss became more awake, the sluggishness subsided and made way for the desire that Harry could feel seething in his chest.

Harry gently sucked on Draco's lower lip, the blond moaned softly, gripped Harry's hair more firmly and opened his mouth willingly for Harry. Harry's tongue found its way too easily into Draco's mouth, explored the space too naturally and elicited thrilling sounds. It was stimulating to know that it was _Harry_ who elicited these sounds from Draco, that _Harry_ was able to satisfy Draco.

He was filled with lust, that gathered in his crotch. Draco's fingers slid down his neck, to his back, over the place where the bruise must have been. Harry suppressed the need to flinch as the pain spread through his shoulder. Draco's fingers moved on, the pain faded. Draco's fingertips drew small circles along Harry's lower back, it almost drove Harry out of his mind.

"I –" Draco suddenly started and pulled away. "I actually wanted to talk to you." Harry looked perplexed into the grey eyes. _Talking_? Now? But... _What?_ "It's _important_. Somehow at least. Could you–" Draco gesticulated undefined and Harry nodded slowly as he got up.

Draco also straightened up, pulled his legs out from under Harry's and sat cross-legged opposite him. Harry frowned but then imitated the pose and looked at Draco waiting. The blond looked _uncomfortable_? No, that wasn't the right word, more _nervous_ perhaps? Whatever it was, it cooled Harry's nerves efficiently. Still, not completely, it would have been impossible. After all, Draco was sitting so close to him that their knees touched and he could _see_ the reddened lips and tangled hair. That had its effect, even if Draco's posture was one of earnestness.

"I – I’d better tell you now in case you –" began Draco but broke off again immediately.

Harry slowly became nervous as well, though he made a noticeable effort to wait patiently. This seemed rather serious. Was this about them? Was this about the _thing_ between them? Had to be, didn't it? Otherwise, it wouldn't have been important now. What if Draco wanted to tell Harry that he didn't want to go on with this? What if he told him he had made a mistake and that he didn’t like Harry in _that_ way? What if he found Harry's staring uncomfortable? What if he wanted a new teammate because of this? What if last night had been too much for him? What if he didn’t reciprocate Harry’s feelings?

"I'm trans," Draco interrupted his flood of thoughts in a firm voice. "Transgender... if you know what that is." Draco cleared his throat uneasily but forced himself to continue looking at Harry.

Harry blinked confused. _What_? This meant... Oh.

Harry almost exhaled in relief. An invisible weight lifted off his chest and allowed him to breathe freely again. This wasn't about them. Draco hadn't decided against Harry. If he thought about it, it didn't make sense for Draco to back out now. No sense _at all_. He was obviously enjoying Harry's attention far too much. How on earth did Harry even get the idea in his head? He really needed to work on his confidence. He hadn't felt this level of self-doubt in years. Draco made him _weak_. It was frightening.

Harry only noticed that he hadn't said anything for a while when Draco lowered his gaze and his cheeks turned pink. He twirled the end of his ponytail with his fingers, his posture was tense, as if he was preparing for pain. Harry's chest contracted painfully and he hastily reached for Draco's fingers.

"Okay," Harry said with little eloquence. And when Draco looked at him again, almost hopeful, Harry smiled softly. "I mean... I know what that is."

"And...?" Draco bit his lower lip and studied Harry's face carefully.

"And what?" Harry asked. His thumb drew circles on Draco's wrist.

Draco frowned, some uncertainty still resonated in his gaze, but he didn’t pull his hand away. "I just thought... I don't even know –" He broke off, cleared his throat and started again. "We never talked about our sexuality."

Harry furrowed his brows in confusion. So what? Did Draco _want_ to talk about it now? Weren’t they just talking about–? _Oh!_ Harry finally got it. Draco wasn’t sure _if_ _that would make a difference to Harry._ Harry couldn't quite believe Draco was worried about _that_. His pure fascination with the blond was more than evident. Even for Draco, who was a little blinder to it than the rest of humanity, it had to be obvious enough.

"I like _you_. Is that enough?" he asked, his heart pounding a little harder against his chest at the confession. This was more nerve-racking than he had imagined.

Draco's eyes grew bigger and his cheeks turned dark red. _Cute_ , Harry thought with a smile. And bloody stupid. Draco almost acted as if it hadn’t been obvious anyway.

"I think... that's enough," Draco whispered almost, then his gaze fell on Harry's lips and Harry's heart skipped a beat. The mood shifted from nervous uncertainty to desperate longing in a matter of seconds. Harry had no intention of resisting the temptation, nor did Draco, for he was already leaning in to press his lips eagerly on Harry's.

They quickly found themselves back in their old rhythm, picked up where they had ended it and started to deepen it. Draco pushed Harry backwards against the lilac backrest, Harry hardly felt the pain in his shoulder, only felt Draco's warm breath on his lips. Harry's hands found their way up to Draco's waist, pulled the blond closer to him. Draco allowed it to happen, his own hands cupping Harry's face.

The tingling sensation on Harry's skin sank into his blood and made it boil with Draco's touch. He sank further back, stretched his legs under Draco's, made room for him to lie completely on top of him and between his legs. A sigh escaped Draco's lips, Harry caught it greedily, barely stopped himself from moaning.

Draco's hand slid along Harry's arm until their fingers interlaced and Draco fixed the hand over Harry's head. A shiver ran through Harry's body. Holding hands while snogging was _sexy_. Harry's other hand went from Draco's waist down to his hips and then onto his back where it lingered until Draco began to move his hips as if subconsciously.

Any control left Harry and he moaned into the kiss, reacted to the friction on his crotch with pure urgency. All the blood was pumped into his midst and Harry had difficulty concentrating on the kiss. _Holy crap_ , was this even okay for Draco? He didn't complain, but Harry still pulled away, breathing heavily.

"Is this... Do you even want to–?" Ah yes, the whole thing with forming whole sentences was rather difficult in his condition.

A few blond strands of hair that had come loose fell on Harry's face and tickled his cheek, but Draco didn't brush them away, just looked appraisingly into Harry's eyes. Harry frowned; Draco's answer was taking its time.

"We don't have to–"

"No, I want to!" Draco interrupted him hastily. "But lunch’s any minute now, and I know someone will be looking for us if we skip it. We could hurry, but..."

Harry understood him, even without hearing Draco's explanation. A little _more_ time couldn't be amiss. They could continue snogging later, nothing and nobody would stop them. And even if the reasoning was legitimate and the wisest for the moment, it didn’t solve Harry's rather obvious problem.

"Okay. We'll just... continue this later. I just need –" Harry faltered. He could hardly solve this problem like he usually would, that’d be a bit too much. But with half an erection between his legs, he didn't want to have lunch. Harry sat up, Draco retreated willingly and watched Harry with deep creases between his brows.

"Can I?" Harry asked and got up as soon as Draco had climbed off him. If all else failed, then the old tricks came in handy. Fully aware that Draco was watching him, Harry started walking up and down the room at a fast pace, imagining some unpleasant things at the same time. Snape, who took Harry's essays apart in front of the entire class and humiliated him to the point of complete degradation. Dudley, who dunked Harry's head in a toilet bowl, counted to twenty, let him catch his breath, only to repeat the procedure. Ah yes, it worked instantaneously as usual. Harry stopped and grinned at Draco with satisfaction. Draco returned the look with a mixture of amusement and scepticism.

"You know when doctors tell you to walk it off? Walking doesn't only help with pain," Harry explained and started to walk again. Draco looked bloody _hot_ , sitting there on the sofa with red lips and cheeks, safe was safe.

Draco's laugh came unexpectedly and was also a little bit hurtful to Harry's ego. The sound spurred his heart despite everything.

"Stop laughing! And stop looking at me, it's embarrassing," Harry complained amusedly and continued to walk in circles with quick steps.

Draco's laughter didn’t disappear. " _Why_ do you think I'm looking at you?!"

Harry stopped again and crossed his arms. "So you’re mocking me."

"You’re making it too easy," chuckled Draco, rose from the sofa and walked towards Harry. "Come on, _lunch_ _!"_

Harry sighed, watched Draco cross the room for a moment then he pulled himself together and followed the blond. His eyes fell on the back of Draco's head and he had to suppress a smile with difficulty.

"Uhm, Draco, you might want to do something about your hair."

" _Fuck you_ , Potter."

_Maybe later._

~~~ 

"Mate, there you are! I was about to go looking for you! You've got to call Sirius back! It's about Hedwig."

Weasley intercepted Potter and Draco in the dining hall entrance and had a look on his face as he'd just seen a ghost. Draco frowned, Potter, however, stopped dead in his tracks.

"Is she all right? _Fuck_ , Ron _, talk to me!"_ Potter's voice echoed with honest panic, it confused Draco even more.

"Just call Sirius, he’s gonna –" Weasley started, but was interrupted by Potter.

"My phone's in my room. _Now tell me if she's all right_."

Instead of answering, Weasley laboriously groped for his own phone in his trouser pocket. Potter reached for it before Weasley could even hold it out to him. With furrowed brows, Potter started typing, held the phone to his ear and turned away.

Draco cast a questioning glance in Weasley's direction, to which he expected no answer. _Hedwig_. He wondered who she was. Potter began to speak and walked down the hallway. Neither Weasley nor Draco followed him, giving him a moment of privacy.

"– Dog."

Draco's head turned to Weasley, and he felt the redhead's calculating look on him. In an instant, he regretted not listening to Potter to fix his hair. Weasley looked as if he knew exactly what they had done just five minutes ago.

"Pardon?" Draco asked with as much composure as he could gather.

"Hedwig is his dog," Weasley repeated, his eyes still fixed on Draco. Strange. Draco liked it far more when he was watched by _Potter_.

"She's not well, but alive," Potter said, reappearing next to them. His gaze lowered to the mobile phone display, he cursed under his breath. Then he handed the phone back to Weasley and rubbed his forehead stressed. The dark hair fell a little to one side, exposing the pale scar on Potter's forehead. Nothing more than a scratch, but placed in such a way that Draco found it difficult not to stare.

"She had a seizure out of nowhere. Sirius took her straight to the vet. They're examining her now. He'll be in touch as soon as he knows more."

Sirius. Draco felt as though he should know who this person was. If he was honest with himself, he knew _fucking_ little about Potter. It usually bothered him in a different way. Knowledge was power, his father had taught him that at an early age and Draco had stuck to it all his life. But in Potter's case, it wasn't about power. All he wanted was to do something about his obvious suffering.

"Hang in there, mate! She'll be all right," Weasley attempted a pep talk, Potter gave him a half-hearted smile and then peeked at Draco, who felt a little out of place.

He wasn't particularly skilled at comforting someone. Sure, Parkinson had poured her heart out to Draco countless times before and cried bitterly at one point or another. But Parkinson wasn’t _Potter_. With Parkinson, it had been enough to promise her a shopping trip to Paris or to have her favourite ice cream brought and to watch one of those terrible black and white romances. Draco couldn’t imagine that this would work on Potter. So he kept his lips carefully sealed and waited for a sign from Potter that would tell him what he needed.

"Yes, probably," Potter replied to Weasley. "Hey, can you... I don't know... let somebody know? I've lost my appetite. I'm just going to –" Potter broke off and pointed behind him as if it would explain what he was _going to_.

Weasley nodded and briefly squeezed Potter's shoulder empathetically. "Sure, no problem, mate."

Potter's gaze found Draco's. _Come on, tell me what you need_ , pleaded Draco internally. But Potter said nothing, instead, he raised his hand, brushed one of the loose strands of hair from Draco's face, watched it fall straight back into his face, then smiled half-heartedly in Weasley's direction, turned around and walked with big steps towards the stairs leading to the first floor. Draco felt completely over-challenged.

"It’s better to give him some time," Weasley said, and Draco felt that his feelings and emotions had to be written clearly on his face if even Weasley interpreted them correctly.

"Would he tell me if he didn’t wish to be left alone?" Draco wanted to slap himself. The question only confirmed Weasley's unspoken suspicions, but by now it was too late anyway.

Weasley swayed his head thoughtfully from right to left before shrugging. "Probably not, but trust me. You can't help him right now."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The redhead was Potter's _best friend_ and yet he was as useful as Parkinson at cooking. Meaning _completely_ useless. Maybe Granger would know if it would be wise to go after Potter, they had known each other long enough for Granger to know something like that. But then again, Draco would rather chop off a finger than ask Granger for help or advice, so he had to rely on Weasley after all. What a disaster!

"Let’s go. Or the others will eat all our food," Weasley prompted, making an inviting gesture towards the dining hall. Draco found a meal to be the least important thing in the world right now, but it was no surprise that Weasley felt differently. "Uhm, Goldilocks… before we go… your hair...”

Draco rolled his eyes in an emphasised annoyed way but started to fix his ponytail without comment. It was bad enough that Weasley was walking around with lewd mental imagery of Potter and him, he preferred to spare himself that with the rest of the lot.

~

Nothing kills the mood like the news that your own pet might be dying. That much, Draco knew. He knew what it was like to lose horses. He remembered the wound each one had left in his heart. He couldn't blame Potter for withdrawing himself. After lunch at the latest, Draco was ready to fold, talk to Potter, distract him, but fate showed him no mercy. So, as usual, he spent his noon training Feykir, wishing Lockhart death and throwing his father secret hateful looks.

Later in the stable, he learned from Parkinson that the others had gotten wind of Hedwig and were mothering Potter in alternating shifts. This should have made Draco happy because it meant that he didn't have to suffer from a guilty conscience anymore. After all, he couldn't be with Potter himself, but that was the crux of the matter. Draco would have _liked_ to be with Potter. He wasn't even sure how exactly he would cheer him up, but something in him longed to show the black-haired man that he _wanted_ to be with him.

The feelings were strange, unfamiliar and definitely worth a second look, but it wasn't as if Draco was given the time for a second look. The training had been tedious, his thigh, or rather the bruise on his thigh continued to hurt from too much effort. Feykir was lame without a doubt, today his father had finally noticed it, too. The vet had already been called for the following day. And then there was his father, urging him to ask his mother for forgiveness, which Draco truly intended, but he just couldn't bring himself to look into her disappointed eyes again.

Eventually, he asked Mrs Longbottom to use her office phone. Besides his school laptop, which he used for e-mails, Draco vehemently refused to own any other technical equipment. Mrs Longbottom agreed, of course, and Draco followed his father's instructions well-behaved, though not in person. Narcissa didn’t blame her son. She had been justifying Draco's anger for years with the pressure that Draco's father put on him. Perhaps she was right. Draco didn't care. It didn't change anything anyway.

Besides, he was ambitious and neither his father nor his mother had taught him that. The feeling of winning gave him a frenzy that Zabini felt was unhealthy. Draco blamed it on his past, which admittedly meant that his parents had contributed to his ambition, but it seemed the most plausible explanation. First, he had learned that he always had to consider himself better than those around him, then reality had hit him and shaken him awake. And since then, Draco had been searching for something, _anything_ , that would give him back that feeling of being better. But in a fair way. His morality didn’t completely lag behind.

Potter wasn't in their room when Draco was getting ready for the evening. He was also absent for dinner along with Granger and Weasley, as Draco had to discover. Zabini assured him that Potter had been brought lunch. Once again, Draco should have been pleased, but his chest was tight. _He_ wanted to be with _Harry_ , and while he was still cherishing this thought, he already wanted to slap himself again. He behaved utterly ridiculous. From the look of Zabini, Draco was now completely sure that anyone could read him like an open book. But his best friend had the decency to remain silent, so Draco could indulge himself for a moment longer in the illusion that everything was the same. His emotions in order, his goals and desires clear. No one needed to know he was lying to himself.

Later, Draco was persuaded by his friends to sit by the campfire behind the guesthouse. Alcohol was passed around and Draco would have liked to have had the willpower to refuse, but he didn't have it. Draco had to realise that not even alcohol helped after such a day and he fought the drunken feeling with water and the greasy snacks Longbottom had stolen from the kitchen.

Potter didn't show up at the fire with Granger and Weasley until the sun had already set. Draco almost missed it, only when Lovegood squeaked Potter's name did he see him on the other side of the fire. He wore a dark green blanket over his shoulders, had a beer bottle in his hand and seemed in better condition than before.

Draco wouldn’t describe himself as complicated. If he wanted something, he took it. That might had been partly because of his upbringing, he had always gotten everything he wanted. However, he preferred to blame this quality on the fact that he wasn’t a complicated person. Zabini would probably tell him that he was fooling himself, but in his own mind, everything Draco did and felt made perfect sense.

And right now, Draco wanted Potter. The young man who wasn’t even remotely aware of his effect on others. The green eyes, not moss green, but not apple green either, more like emerald green if Draco had to commit to a choice, enchanted him like no one else ever had. The golden-brown skin made him weak, especially when Potter's hand lay in his own milky white one. And his dark hair, it had no right to look so forbiddingly seductive and at the same time so catastrophic.

Draco rose from his seat by the fire, petted Parkinson’s head when she asked where he was going, but saved himself an answer. Instead, he walked around the campfire towards Potter, who watched his every step attentively. Oh hell, _yes_ , Draco liked that look best.

"Hey," Potter greeted him as soon as Draco was within earshot.

It took a great deal of self-control not to smile now. He gave Weasley and Granger an appraising look, but they didn't seem particularly interested. Neither in Potter nor Draco. So Draco held out his hand, waited for Potter to grab it, and then led him with firm steps to a small bench in the dark, not far from the campfire. Potter sat down on it without needing an invitation, Draco sat down beside him, feeling Potter's unyielding gaze on him.

"We don't have to talk if you don't –" Draco began with carefully chosen words, but Potter interrupted him.

"No, that's... Okay. Hedwig's all right now. They discharged her. There are some theories, but they can't say exactly what triggered the seizure. Maybe she's just old."

Oh. That was good. Not the part about Hedwig being old, but that she was fine.

"I spent the whole bloody afternoon on the phone worrying about Hedwig, tell me something. Anything. Please," Potter asked and casually wrapped one arm around Draco's shoulder. The green blanket provided the needed warmth, which was missing due to the campfire being too far away. Something comfortable spread in Draco's chest.

Draco's little grey cells were churning. _Anything_ ... What the hell was Potter expecting? Draco was no good at having such conversations, in his slightly drunken state, it was purely impossible. Were there any subjects he should _avoid?_ Was it supposed to be something personal or banal, like his favourite colour? Not that he had one, but he could definitely enumerate which colours he _didn't_ like. Lilac, for example. Potter should consider himself lucky that Draco hadn’t complained about this horrible colour while they were… lying on the lilac sofa.

"I like men." Oh, wow. Draco's mental slap hurt him deservedly. That was probably the stupidest subject he could have come up with. "And my father wishes I wouldn't." Well, _that_ topic far outdid the previous one in terms of its stupidity level.

Potter was silent, understandably so, for quite some time. Draco wasn't sure if digging his own grave would be too dramatic, but the need to do just that was very much in his mind.

"Why?" Potter asked after some more silence.

Draco shrugged. He spared himself the trouble of asking which of his two confessions Potter's question referred to and went with the more plausible one. "He wants me to be a whole man if I so very badly need to be one. More precisely, a man who fits in with his ideas. One who marries a pretty woman from a good family, lives in a high-priced house and offers him just the right number of grandchildren. In the latter case, he's more flexible than you'd expect. He was apparently present during biology lessons."

Potter was silent again, and slowly, it was driving Draco mad. He didn't really want to think or speak of his father, this had been a dreadful idea. Still, Potter's silence felt thoughtful, not pejorative, and that made Draco feel halfway better.

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly. "Have you ever talked to your parents about… yourself?" More specifically about Potter's sexuality, which Draco didn't really know and which Potter handled with a frivolity that was at least enviable.

"No," Potter replied, sounding even more thoughtful than before. Draco already opened his mouth to investigate, but Potter continued. "My parents died in a car crash when I was just a toddler.”

"Oh." Fuck. Draco's chest contracted painfully. How could he be so stupid? Holy shit, that was awful. And he sat here, completely unable to find the right words. Potter didn't deserve this.

"I grew up with my aunt and her family. They weren't exactly the nicest people, so I took the first opportunity and got myself sent to boarding school with the savings my parents left me. There I met Ron. And Sirius." Potter spoke calmly as if he'd had this conversation too many times before. Draco's chest only hurt more. Surrounded by darkness, he groped blindly for Potter's rough hand on his shoulder, as soon as he found them, he intertwined their fingers. He could hear Potter exhaling beside him.

"It all sounds sadder than it is. Sirius is my godfather and he helped out at the boarding school now and then. He used to be a student there, like my parents, that’s how they knew each other. When I was fourteen, he took me to London and I haven't seen my aunt since," Potter continued.

Draco knew that Potter was lying to himself. It didn't sound nearly as sad as it actually was. But it wasn't as if Draco had a right to judge when someone was lying to themself. So he said nothing, brushed his thumb gently over Potter's fingertips, leaned on his shoulder and listened to his calm breathing.

"Your father…" Potter began, but Draco hastily interrupted him.

"I don't want to talk about him. He takes up enough room in my life as it is."

So Potter was silent again, and Draco was feverishly searching for an answer. Something he could say to make all this more bearable for the broken man. He didn’t find an answer and Potter didn’t expect one. There were too many and at the same time no words at all to be spoken in such a moment. Draco just hoped quietly that Potter _understood_ that Draco wanted to be there for him. That he was there for him. That he didn't have to hide from him.

Oh _hell_ , how had he missed the fact that he had already succumbed to his charms?

"Are you tired?" Potter asked, thoughtfully twirling Draco's hair with their interlaced fingers. Because Draco wore a high ponytail, Potter didn't even have to reposition their hands.

"Yes, we should go to bed." Draco wasn't really tired, but Potter was, guaranteed.

"Will you sleep in my bed again?" Potter asked softly, close to Draco's ear. His throaty voice made Draco shudder. "And can I kiss you again before we sleep?"

Succumbed was an understatement. He had fallen for him. Completely.

"Mhm. Until you fall asleep," Draco answered, drawing Potter's fingers to his lips. Potter buried his nose in blond hair and Draco could have sworn he could _feel_ him smiling.

~~~

_Beep, beep, beep, beep._

Harry blinked against bright sunlight that fell through a gap in the curtains right onto his bed. Next to him, a warm body moved clumsily, Harry only recognized a blurry blond spot and smiled.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep._

Harry leaned over Draco's body, firstly to finally turn off the bloody alarm clock and secondly to find his glasses. He was successful. The beeping stopped, his glasses were right next to the alarm clock and right next to it, his mobile phone started buzzing.

Harry frowned intently, put his glasses on while still leaning over Draco, and tried to blink the remaining tiredness out of his eyes. Then he reached for his mobile phone and tried to decipher something on the bright display.

As if by chance, Harry felt cool fingers wandering along his waist which gave him goosebumps right away. Harry's vision became clearer and he could finally read the text on the display. He froze as memories flooded his mind like ice water.

Sirius! Sirius and Hedwig were almost here!

Harry jumped up instantly, got tangled up in the blanket and almost tripped over his own feet. Somehow, he managed to stay on both legs while he rushed to his wardrobe and pulled out a T-shirt. Another one flew in Draco's direction, they didn't have time to be picky and Draco would certainly not go to the courtyard in his sleeping clothes.

"Hurry up! Sirius texted, they'll be here in five," Harry called and rushed into the bathroom with his clothes under his arm. He deliberately ignored Draco’s "Wait _what?"_

Less than five minutes later, Harry and Draco left their room with giant strides. Harry with the biggest grin on his lips one could imagine so early in the morning and Draco... well, Draco looked _cute_ in Harry's shirt. It was too big for him, but only because Harry had a penchant for unfitting clothing. The blond hair was still braided, but obviously uncombed. He looked extremely sleepy. And bloody _cute_.

"Potter, would you be so kind as to tell me what the fuck is going on?" Draco growled. Harry dragged him along the hallway by his wrist. Right. He had somehow forgotten to tell Draco about the joyous news.

"After Hedwig was discharged yesterday, Sirius suggested he bring her by," Harry began to explain. "Ah, well, actually, it was Hermione's idea. She also asked Mrs Longbottom for permission. Sirius is only dropping her off. She'll be staying here for the coming week."

Harry just turned to take the stairs to the ground floor, when Draco stopped so abruptly that Harry was nearly swung around. Surprised, Harry turned to Draco, who stared at him with a horrified expression. Harry frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Your _godfather_ is bringing her by?" Draco asked, slight panic in his voice. "Your godfather, whom you live with? Who – Who's in a sense your legal guardian?"

Harry kept looking confused at Draco. "Yes?"

"Potter! Have you _looked_ at me? I can't –" Draco broke off and tried to free his wrist from Harry's grip.

"I hope you’re aware that you're mental," was all Harry said, he tightened the grip around Draco's wrist and pulled him forward with a firm step. Draco whimpered, but then he let himself be dragged along. Harry was sure Draco was suffering from delusions. How could anyone _breathe_ with so much vanity?

Ron and Hermione were waiting for them in the entrance area of the guesthouse. Hermione looked about as unprepared and sleepy as Draco. Her dark curls looked a bit more tousled than usual and her clothes clearly looked like pyjamas. Ron, on the other hand, looked fresher than on most mornings and gave Harry a cheerful smile.

Short morning greetings were exchanged, then the four of them set off for the courtyard. Harry only let go of Draco’s wrist when he noticed Hermione's curious looks. He felt the excitement building inside him, after yesterday's shock, he couldn't wait to see Hedwig again. He had got her from Sirius for his twelfth birthday, she had become his most loyal companion within a very short time. About a year ago a similar case had happened, Harry had brought her himself to the vet and had feared for her life three hours long. She was well again, but the experience had left a sensitive scar in his chest.

"Um, Harry, is Goldilocks wearing one of your shirts?" Ron casually asked as they strolled past the big weeping willow tree towards the parking place where a well-known grey jeep was parked. Harry's heart fluttered, but he still gave Ron a reproachful look. He could literally see Draco's eye roll, even if he wasn't looking at him.

Then Ron was luckily distracted because Sirius got out of the car and a joyful barking sounded from inside the car. Harry's steps automatically quickened and before he knew it, he was pulled into a tight embrace by Sirius. The grin didn’t leave his face, from the corners of his eyes he could already see white ears behind tinted windows.

"Did you miss me or Hedwig? Should I be jealous?" Sirius asked laughing when he noticed Harry's gaze. He didn't wait for an answer but greeted Ron and Hermione instead. With Draco, he hesitated and then threw an asking glance at Harry. Oh, yes, that was his cue!

"Sirius, Draco. Draco, Sirius," Harry introduced them briefly. His eyes kept wandering impatiently to Hedwig, or rather, her ears. The dog whimpered impatiently.

"Nice to finally meet you, Draco." Sirius smiled broadly and shook Draco's hand, who looked as if he would like to wring Harry's neck, but at the same time not present a bad first impression of himself. "Now let the poor animal out of the car," he added, addressing Harry.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice and opened the car door. Hedwig belonged to the larger kinds of German Shepherds. She was snow-white and had a floppy ear, which had always set her apart from the others. Harry liked that. Sirius always said that the ear was like Harry's scar on his forehead and that gave Harry an even stronger feeling of connection to his dog.

And, _fuck_ , had he missed her. Her soft fur, her joy as soon as she jumped towards Harry. But he could have done without her attempts to lick his face. The dog walked in a circle once, greeted everyone curiously and then stood well-behaved next to Harry to wait for further instructions. Sirius just rolled his eyes, joked that no one could ever make Harry as happy as _his_ _Hedwig_ , then he inquired about breakfast and Ron took the opportunity and told everyone to follow him to the guesthouse.

Ron and Hermione each knew Sirius already and quickly started a conversation with the sociable man as they strolled with him to the guesthouse. Harry unintentionally let himself fall back a bit, watched Hedwig, who curiously explored the new surroundings, and smiled contentedly. He felt Draco's presence at his side, warmly reminding him that the world could be a bloody good place.

But Harry also knew that the blond felt uncomfortable, so he pulled him closer to his side and wrapped one arm around Draco's shoulder while they followed the three others. Draco did indeed relax under Harry's touch, but his expression remained stubborn.

"God, I hate my life," Draco murmured more to himself than to Harry. "I didn't even have time to shower because of your rush."

Harry laughed, then buried his nose in Draco's hair, inhaling his scent. Draco made a horrified sound and tried to break free, Harry knew how to prevent that. "Hmm, I smell alcohol with a hint of vanilla. No worries, it's intoxicating as usual."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Draco's blush rising on his cheeks, his heart pounded at the sight. Harry hurriedly looked around for Hedwig, if he wasn't careful, he would do something crazy and kiss the blond in the middle of the courtyard. That might have been a bit early, even though Harry had to admit that he wasn’t opposed to the idea. No, he rather welcomed it.

"This would’ve been your opportunity to convince me to take a shower with you. Such a pity, Potter," Draco whispered in Harry's ear as they crossed the threshold of the front door to the guesthouse. Now it was Harry's turn to feel the heat in his cheeks and look at Draco in surprise. The blond gave him a mischievous smile, broke away from Harry's touch and strutted with his chin up and a little more swing of his hip than usual towards the stairs leading to the first floor.

Before Draco disappeared around the corner, he threw Harry another rapturous smile that made Harry's heart throb. "Our vet is examining Feykir today, I'm sure he'll look at Hedwig, too, if you want him to. He always had a soft spot for dogs."

Oh. So in addition to being wildly seductive, Draco knew how to be caring? Harry would have never objected.

~

"Remus Lupin," the lanky man with the brown hair and eyes introduced himself. His handshake was stronger than one would expect from his frame, but his facial expression was infused with friendliness through and through. Harry returned the smile and introduced himself as well.

Harry had spent the morning with Sirius and had introduced him to his friends. Ginny obviously knew Sirius already, he embosomed Luna immediately, and the others welcomed him happily into their midst. Harry had only just joined Draco, Mr Lupin had finished his examination of Feykir and prescribed him a few days' rest. He assured Draco that the lameness would go away after enough time off. And now he greeted Hedwig, who sniffed the back of his hand with a wag.

Draco excused himself to bring Feykir back to his stall and left them alone. Lupin crouched down next to Hedwig, routinely inquired about previous illnesses and the nature of the seizure, Harry answered the questions to the best of his ability. Meanwhile, Lupin took a closer look at the dog, after a few minutes he sighed and got up again.

"She’s fine for now. My guess is idiopathic epilepsy, she will need medication if the seizures become more frequent," he explained. "It's nothing completely unusual, as long as you keep an eye on her, she won't die from it."

Harry nodded in relief. Lupin seemed sure and that calmed Harry immensely. Nevertheless, he decided to look for a vet who was specialized in epilepsy after the horse-riding holidays. Hedwig was not just a dog for him, she was a friend and he didn’t want to lose her. As if she knew that this was all about her, she nudged Harry's hand with her snout and demanded his attention. Harry thoughtlessly scratched between her ears.

"You get along well with Draco, am I right?" Lupin asked, bringing Harry back to reality.

"Uh, yes?" Harry returned.

"He's a good boy," Lupin said with a little smile on his lips and began to stow the instruments he had used on Feykir into a bag. "He wasn't always, if I may say so. It took him a lot of time and trouble to question his values and morals. I think someone with strong inner morals would be good for him." Lupin looked at Harry briefly as if he wondered if Harry could be that someone. "Ah, and he was always terrified of big dogs."

Harry, a little overwhelmed with the amount of information, laughed in surprise. "Really?"

Lupin nodded and gave Harry an amused look. "Until he was 10 years old, he always hid from the farm dog on the back of a horse. I'm absolutely sure that's one of the reasons he was able to ride so early."

Harry couldn't help but smile at the mental image. That fear had helped to reveal Draco's riding talent was, in an amusing way, very fitting. At least, Harry felt that way. He decided to tease Draco about it later.

"Well? Is Hedwig truly all right? Can we breathe freely again?" a familiar voice suddenly asked behind Harry.

Harry turned and nodded happily at Sirius. "Yes, Mr Lupin just –"

"Remus", Lupin corrected hurriedly, he closed the zipper of his bag and looked at Sirius with pure interest. That wasn't unusual, Sirius' appearance elicited a reaction from most people that lay somewhere between "Oh my God, Harry, your godfather is so cool!" and "That your uncle chooses _this_ kind of clothing at his age is a disgrace to this neighbourhood!”. Lupin's interest, however, didn’t seem to be of a judgmental nature, which made the man thousand times more likeable.

"Remus? A beautiful name for a beautiful man," Sirius said with that smile on his lips that could only mean mischief. Harry grimaced; Sirius was impossible. No one fell for that cheap pickup line, no one with taste at least.

Lupin seemed to lack taste because he actually smiled back _flattered_. Harry almost rolled his eyes, he had always hoped this embarrassment would get better with age. "Uh, yes. This is Sirius, my godfather," Harry introduced Sirius before things could get any more awkward.

"Pleased to meet you," Lupin said, and stretched out a hand to Sirius, which he took in his with far too much enthusiasm. _Oh God_ , Harry just wanted to get away.

Fortunately for him, Sirius saved him from his torment. "Oh, by the way, Harry, they're asking for you in the dining hall. Mrs Longbottom wants to announce the afternoon's activity."

Oh, right! The activity was meant to be a surprise, Harry remembered that much. Draco would certainly push him to his limits again, so they would earn enough stupid horseshoe points to keep them at the top of the scoring. Speaking of Draco...

"It's all right, I'll let Draco know," Lupin offered.

Harry nodded gratefully and made sure he got away from them as fast as he could.

~

The surprise activity turned out to be paint. More precisely finger paint. Even more precisely finger paint, which was suitable for horse coat. ("And was produced purely plant-based, everything completely biodegradable. You could theoretically eat it and it would do no harm!", why one would want to eat finger paint, Hermione forgot to mention in her enthusiasm). Their task was to paint one of their team ponies as beautiful or crazy as possible. The pony that was chosen as the most beautiful in the end won a whole 30 horseshoe points.

Draco was obviously on fire, even though he looked sceptically at the buckets of paint and needed to be reassured several times by everyone that the paint was washable. Harry still suggested Hetja to serve as their guinea pig. Her red coat colour was harder to cover than Andvari’s sand-coloured one, but should _anything_ go wrong, at least Harry's pony was coloured and not Draco's. This would save him a lot of unnecessary drama.

The weather was, as always, clear and friendly, which was why the different teams spread out all over the farm to do their work. Draco, completely seized by ambition, insisted on a secluded spot, behind the stallion stables, so that no one would dare to copy their idea. Harry found this absolutely overdramatic but didn't mind a little time alone with Draco.

So he let Draco lead him behind the stable, tied Hetja to a hanging branch of a birch tree and placed the buckets of paint on the outside wall of the stable, sorted according to the colours of the rainbow. There was even a garden hose and an outdoor faucet in case paint should drip on Draco's _oh-so-expensive_ clothes. Draco was already philosophising about suitable ideas, Harry had been blessed rather less with creativity and left the blond the choice for a design.

Draco's ideas were all good, but in the end, they decided on a sunset. Hetja's coat was best suited for that, thought Draco and Harry would have never dared to disagree. Instead, he followed Draco's instructions and painted Hetja with the colour Draco mixed for him. Harry's hands looked as if he had eviscerated an animal in no time.

Draco was far more talented with his fingers than Harry. He actually seemed to be pursuing an idea and didn’t just slap paint on the animal mindlessly. Harry couldn’t help but indulge in his fascination. The trees and the stable wall provided shade, and yet Draco's hair shone in the sunlight like a halo. Draco wore it in a bun at the nape of his neck, tied so loosely that half the strands fell loosely into his face. The movement of the pale hand that tucked the strands behind his ear was so subconscious and natural that Harry almost felt envious. Envious of _Draco's hand_. His obsession took on ridiculous proportions.

Draco's finger worked precisely and carefully over Hetja's coat. Each patch of colour had a carefully planned position, which Harry didn’t understand at first, but admired as soon as he understood the meaning behind it. And despite Draco's concentration on his own work, he corrected Harry's way of working exactly in the right moments. Held him by his wrist when he almost ruined Draco's little masterpiece and showed him how he could help without disfiguring everything.

It was hard for Harry to concentrate when Draco was so much more interesting than finger paint on his hands. It was admirable, almost practised, the way Draco pursued painting. He seemed to know what the human eye _needed_ to see an aesthetic value behind random splashes of paint. Fascinated, Harry watched Draco squat down and soon flames appeared under his fingers on the mare's pastern. A red stripe of paint adorned Draco's cheek and made Harry smile.

"What?" Draco asked and looked curiously up at Harry, who was about to colour Hetja's mane with dark red paint.

"Nothing," Harry began, still looking at the red smudge of paint on Draco's cheek. "You're good at this. Painting, I mean." 

A small smile lit up Draco’s face before he turned back to painting. "Sometimes, when I have absolutely nothing better to do, I draw," he confessed and tilted his head to take a closer look at his work on Hetja's hindquarters. "There were times in my life when that happened quite often."

Harry's heart beat harder in his chest. It seemed like darn personal information as if Draco was revealing himself more than he had done ever before. "And now? Do you still draw?" Harry asked, Hetja's mane was just a side issue now.

"Occasionally," Draco responded, then rose, rubbed his hands on his thigh, which left a red mark there. Harry's gaze fell on Draco's cheek again and an urgent need overcame him.

Before Harry knew what was happening to him, his own hand shot forward and he dabbed a red dash of paint on the tip of Draco's nose. Draco gasped, dodged and then, when he realised it was already too late, wrinkled up his nose. Harry laughed out loud. That, fucking hell, was _cute_.

Draco seemed to disagree, gave Harry a wicked look before dipping his fingers knuckle-deep in the orange paint and then buried his hand in Harry's hair. Too busy laughing, Harry didn’t even notice the attack until it was too late. But instead of complaining, he took advantage of Draco's proximity and grabbed the blond by the waist. He reaped a protest sound for this and Draco smeared his orange coloured fingers on his neck and jaw.

Harry tried to duck away under Draco's fingers but was unsuccessful. The paint felt sticky on the skin, not really pleasant, but nothing unbearable. As long as Draco's fingers were on his skin, Harry was perfectly happy anyway.

A smile lit up Draco’s eager face as he looked at his work with satisfaction and seemed to be highly pleased that Harry had stopped fighting back. The fact that the blond looked at most delightful with the red dot on his nose was just playing into Harry's hands. So he leaned forward, rubbed the tip of his own nose against Draco's and at the same time pulled the blond closer to him.

Draco gasped in surprise but didn’t resist. On the contrary, he buried his hands in Harry's hair again and pulled him closer until their lips almost touched. Harry hesitated instantly, but Draco overcame the last few millimetres and pressed his lips firmly against Harry's. Harry sighed with relief and kissed back with eager. This was _much more_ exciting than finger painting.

Pushing shyness and decency far away, Draco only deepened the kiss, Harry gripped Draco's waist tighter and let one hand linger on Draco's lower back. Heat burned through his veins and he completely forgot where they were. He sucked gently on Draco's lower lip, making the blond open his lips and allowing his tongue to enter. Draco moaned, clasped one hand in the hair at Harry's neck and moved away from him. But in such a way that Harry knew unmistakably that he had to follow. And that he did.

With boiling blood, the feeling of soft lips on his own, a wet tongue exploring his mouth and Draco's body under his hands, Harry let Draco pull him closer to the stable wall, closer to the bushes. _For cover_. Harry's awakened crotch knew exactly where this was going to lead, his mind was too hazy to object.

Draco’s back was pushed against the stable wall, Harry pressed their bodies together again and sighed comfortably, just as Draco's free hand stroked his arm down to his hand. Harry wanted to reach for Draco's fingers, but then he understood what Draco actually wanted. _He positioned Harry's hand_. Harry tried hard not to gasp when his fingers suddenly touched Draco's bottom but were then led further down to his thigh. Harry waited for Draco to bury his own hand in Harry's hair again, then grabbed firmer.

The reaction came immediately, Draco gasped into the kiss, bent his leg so Harry could hold it while pressing his hips even closer to Draco's. _Shit_ , what were they doing here? Wasn't this risky? Someone could walk past and spot them any second. But Harry wanted Draco so _fucking_ bad, and all the blood had already been pumped into his cock anyway. If Draco was bothered by that, he would have surely said something by now. Wouldn't he?

Harry broke away from the kiss, gave himself two seconds to control his breath and watch Draco. The colour that had been spread over Harry’s face now adorned Draco's chin, lips and cheeks. Harry sensed that his face couldn’t look any different and suppressed a smile. _That’s_ why the paint was edible.

"You didn't want us to have to hurry," Harry remembered, his voice sounded dark with desire, his breath went fast and his mind was still on autopilot.

Draco's fingers found Harry's lips, traced the contours as his hips continued to move under Harry's hands. It was maddening. "That was yesterday. Today, I'm still unshagged and a whole lot hornier for you, so _please_..."

Harry needed no second invitation, instead, he pressed his lips back against Draco's, continued the kiss no less passionately than before. He pushed his hips against Draco's with more force, coaxed a gasp from the blond and moaned into the kiss as Draco began to rub against him. Fuck, he didn't need much more.

But Draco wanted to give him more. He broke away from Harry's lips and began to concentrate on Harry's trouser and zipper. Harry's heart was racing, everything inside him screamed to stare at Draco with fascination. The grey eyes dark with lust, the hair in which Harry buried a hand and dyed it blood red, he had true beauty in front of his eyes.

Harry kissed Draco's cheek, jaw, nose, forehead, leaving the blond all the time in the world, then, all of a sudden, he felt his trousers and pants getting pulled down and long fingers closed around his erection. _Long fingers._ Now Harry knew why this quality had been so important to him. They felt _divine_ on his skin. It would have been absolutely impossible to suppress the moan that was leaving his throat.

Soft lips found Harry’s again, even though he wasn’t really able to respond to the kiss. Instead, he held on to Draco and the stable wall so as not to sink to his knees or fall. Draco's fingers massaged Harry's length in an urgent rhythm. They seemed experienced, hell, if that was Draco's first time, then Harry voluntarily ate a hat. And they dyed Harry's cock completely with orange paint. He couldn’t take his eyes off the sight.

Draco's pale fingers, completely dyed, worked over every millimetre of his skin, which stood on fire under every touch. Harry closed his eyes, if he kept watching, he wouldn’t last much longer. So he buried his nose in the crook of Draco's neck, inhaled the scent of vanilla and let his hand slide out of Draco's hair down to his waistband.

Harry saw the wheezing as an invitation and with deft fingers, he opened Draco's belt and trousers. He gave Draco a last questioning, in his condition probably more pleading, look. The blond returned it for a fraction of a second before he nodded barely noticeably and Harry let his hand slip into Draco's trousers.

If their first kiss had been overstimulation, then this was an explosion of stimuli. Harry's fingertips rubbed against Draco's hardness, his lips hovered only millimetres above Draco's, he breathed Draco's air and gasped each time he thrust his erection into Draco's hand. Draco's thumb brushed over the slit, spreading the precum on his tip, applying just the right amount of pressure to make Harry see heaven without being able to reach it.

Draco's hot breath met Harry's lips more and more brokenly and unevenly, his panting grew louder, the dexterity of his hand weakened and Harry could feel that Draco was near.

"Tell me what you need," Harry whispered harshly to soft lips that silently begged for more. _In a moment._ All he needed was an answer and he would follow Draco's pleading.

"You. I need... Come for me, _Harry_." Draco's voice trembled, but it was more than enough to finish Harry off. One last time Harry thrust his hips into Draco’s fist. He felt Draco's fingers move along his shaft with practised precision and when he finally pressed his lips against Draco's, his knees weakened and stars danced before his eyes. Harry's orgasm overwhelmed him with unplanned force, only the fact that he clung to the wall with one hand saved him from falling.

When Harry, breathing heavily, broke away from the kiss, he first noticed Draco's trembling, which instantly brought a smile to his face. _Fuck_. They had done it. And it had been _fucking_ good. Harry buried a hand in blond, red-spotted hair and kissed Draco again, savouring the after-waves of their orgasms until the very last moment. Draco sighed with delight and Harry's smile turned into a grin.

"So it’s _Harry_ now," he commented casually as he took a small step back to eye Draco. Draco's shirt and trousers had a few red spots, as did his tousled hair, but it had hit his face hardest. Besides the orange and red colour, there was a sweet red shimmer on Draco's cheeks and his lips were moist and swollen. The sight made Harry's stomach rumble.

"Shut up, _Potter!_ You'd better think of a way to make _this_ disappear." Draco didn't really sound reproachful and motioned down at them. It reminded Harry to put his clothes back on properly. As soon as that had happened, he set about closing Draco's trousers again with a pert grin on his lips. Draco's gaze lay attentively on Harry's hands, an everlasting hunger glittering in his eyes.

"Maybe this is my second chance to take a shower with you," Harry pondered, careful to make his voice sound dark.

Draco rolled his eyes, pushed Harry away a bit, but stumbled after him because Harry reflexively wrapped his arms around him. "And how do you propose we do that?", Draco began, not really averse to the fact that his body was clinging to Harry's. "We can't just sneak into our room. Aside from the fact that we don't have the time, someone’s bound to catch us."

"Hmm," Harry returned with little eloquence, then something caught his eye and his smile broadened. He let go of Draco's body, walked in quick steps a few metres along the stable wall, where he reached his destination. 

"Potter, what –"

"Let's do it the old-fashioned way then," Harry said cheerfully, picked up the garden hose from the ground, aimed it at Draco and turned on the tap. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fucking* finally (the puns... I'm sorry)
> 
> I probably should also add that I'll use male/neutral terminology for Draco's genitalia 'cause I'm (surprisingly) not ~trying~ to trigger anyone's dysphoria. 
> 
> Ohh and there's more art, again drawn by the wonderful "datsiro" on Tumblr: https://datsiro.tumblr.com/post/627446144051658752/jfc-is-it-just-me-or-does-draco-with-long-hair


	5. Of Seawater, Cake and Horse Movies

Over the next few days, Harry found that his fascination with Draco didn’t end. No, in fact, the opposite was the case. His fascination with the blond grew, even when Harry had thought it had reached its limits. But it did. Draco was _limitless_. He opened Harry's eyes to an undiscovered world, Draco's world. It felt as if Harry could _see_ properly for the first time.

Emotions as pure and naive as Harry's were, are nothing more or less than tenderness. Like the touch of a feather, light and gentle. Harry didn’t understand what was going on inside him, how could he? It was new and he had never been the type for deep self-analysis. He was good at taking things as they came and wouldn’t change for uncharted feelings.

Draco, on the other hand, deliberately closed his eyes to the _meaning_. He looked, but he didn’t _see_. He fought with all his might against seeing anything in Harry, in his gaze, in his touch, in his smile. Because what if he was wrong? What if the world took his heart just to exact its revenge? What if he didn't deserve to be happy? If Draco hadn't closed his eyes, he would've pushed Harry away. He would have played safe and wouldn’t have let the man, who had wrapped him around his little finger much too quickly, come near him.

It’s therefore, that Draco's blindness and Harry's lack of self-reflection was probably the most effective self-protection against the deeper truth behind their feelings. Sometimes, as here, it is wiser to let the truth come to you in small thrusts. Especially when it exposes you to your heart, leaving nothing but vulnerability.

It would have been too much for one person, the fascination took on dimensions that Harry couldn't understand. So Harry's mind did what it did best. It used the jam jar tactic. But in the most pleasant way, because instead of hiding his emotions from the world, his mind used the tactic to notice things about Draco. Things that everyone saw, but Harry _fell_ for them. Focusing on something, just one little thing, about Draco helped to keep him from descending into madness, to not think about things like fate or destiny.

It was the day after Hedwig's arrival, Harry sat on Hetja's back, listened to the wind rushing through the forest canopy and noticed Draco's mouth. Rather late, considering that they had already exchanged dozens of kisses, but it wasn't only about Draco's lips and how they felt on Harry's, but about everything that had to do with Draco's mouth. This included the words that left his mouth, the way Draco ate his food, the facial expressions, from disgust to the brightest laughter and yes, also the kisses Draco gave Harry.

At the moment it was Draco's words that captivated Harry. Draco didn’t speak to him and wasn’t close enough for Harry to understand exactly what he was talking about but the way he moved his lips was enough to make Harry stare.

But more on that later, it's not as if Harry would stop staring any time soon.

As already mentioned, Harry was currently riding along the forest path, just like the other eleven participants of the horse-riding holidays. It was their daytime activity and something that most had been looking forward to all last week. They were on their way to a bathing lake, located only about an hour away on horseback from Weeping Willow Farmstead. Draco was the only one who wasn't very keen on the activity, which was solely due to the fact that they had no chance to earn horseshoe points with this activity. After Hetja had only achieved second place behind Luna and Ginny's pony yesterday, the blond had been sulking for longer than usual.

Usually, Draco's sulking was cute throughout and only of short duration. It was already enough if someone didn't pay adequate attention to him. He then pushed his lower lip hardly noticeably forward and acted annoyed. It was simply drop-dead adorable and reminded Harry a bit of Hedwig, even if he would never have dared to say that out loud. Especially not in front of Draco.

But this sulking lasted for a long time now and Harry couldn't help but give Draco a certain right. From a purely artistic point of view, Hetja had been painted best. Ginny's and Luna's pony had only won because they had additionally costumed it with wings and a horn and for this, they had earned all the points. Draco felt that this was cheating, Harry had only laughed, which had only annoyed the blond even more. So much that Draco had actually pretended to be _asleep_ when Harry came into their room that same evening after saying goodbye to Sirius. Harry had accepted it with a sigh and let Hedwig sleep at the footboard of his bed.

Harry was sure Draco was only sulking for so long because they were a whole five points behind Ginny and Luna's team. It was a completely exaggerated reaction, Harry had already evened out the score in the morning with feeding and a little extra work with Hagrid, but now Draco was sulking out of sheer defiance, which almost made it worse. Harry had a taste of Draco and found that his patience was wearing thin. A kiss in the stable alley, completely inappropriate for the public, had calmed Harry's nerves for the moment. Then they had left for their trip to the lake and Draco had given his attention to Pansy and Theo, who were riding their ponies alongside Draco.

Hedwig accompanied the group, so Harry should have been busy looking for her, but Draco was clearly too interesting to not look at him. In the end, it was Seamus and Dean who distracted Harry from the target of his desire and grilled him about London. Most of those present lived within a radius of a few kilometres and were probably more of what one would call children of the village. Thus, the big city life was enough unknown to them to get enthusiastic about it. Harry didn’t diminish their enthusiasm with the reality of the horrible jungle called the big city and instead promised to invite them over after the holidays. Just then, he was officially declared Seamus and Dean's personal hero.

At about noon, the forest thinned out before them into an expanding glade with a beautiful lake and a narrow sandy shore in the centre. Neville explained the absence of other visitors by saying that the lake was a well-kept secret of his family. Harry doubted it, but no other explanation occurred to him, the weather was great, the location not too secluded.

After their arrival, they split up into groups. While one third prepared the picnic, another set about looking after the ponies and the last third, including Harry and Ron, constructed a paddock fence that would serve them for a few hours. Then they immediately started devouring the sandwiches they had brought.

Harry sat on the edge of one of the three picnic blankets and petted Hedwig's head while eating, the dog had settled down next to him and even stopped begging after a warning. Draco sat one blanket further next to Blaise, had pulled his knees to his body, had wrapped his arms around his legs and complained about something. Harry smiled to himself, ignored Hermione and Ron's bickering about whether or not mayonnaise belonged on sandwiches, and watched Draco, lost in thought.

The blond had been wearing his hair down since their arrival, which in itself was a rare sight and made the view even more rewarding. But it also drove Harry a bit mad, because now all the strands of hair fell uncontrollably into Draco's face and Harry was itching to keep them in place _somehow_. Draco ended his half-heartedly meant tirade, placed his cheek on his forearm and noticed Harry's gaze.

A soft smile touched his lips, Harry could have sworn that a soft pink shimmer was tinting his cheeks. There was something peaceful just sitting in the sunshine, surrounded by green grass and looking at the most beautiful person in the world. To see his eyes glistening in the sun, to watch his eyebrows furrow slightly to shield him from the glare of the light and to notice the teeth digging into his rosy lower lip.

The idyll was interrupted by Seamus and Ginny, who decided without further ado that it was time for the group to go swimming. Hermione's objections to wait a bit after the meal were deliberately ignored, but the swimming proposal was gladly accepted. The sun was getting hotter and hotter and horseback riding wasn’t the least strenuous activity, so they tore off their riding gear and raced to the shore of the lake, dressed only in underwear.

Harry didn't need to be asked twice either, just took a little more time because he would have never resisted the temptation to watch Draco take his shirt off and expose a pale torso that took Harry's breath away. Draco may have been blinder to Harry's staring than the average person, but he wasn't stupid. He _knew_ he was being watched, so it was no wonder he was willing to put on a little performance for Harry by taking extra time to strip his trousers off his legs, making sure Harry had the best view. Harrys stared with big eyes at the black fabric of the tight boxer shorts, or rather at what had to be hidden _underneath_. How Draco, with his slim frame, could have such proportions was a miracle. As Harry continued his examination, his brain shut down completely.

 _Thighs_.

Of course, Harry had already noticed Draco’s thighs before, but seeing them naked and exposed flipped a switch inside him that put all the puzzle pieces in their proper place and gave him a picture of enlightenment. Draco had _muscles_. _Of course,_ he had toned thighs (and a toned bottom, although Harry could only assume), riding was a _sport_ at the end of the day. How he had been able to forget that, was a mystery to him. Harry yearned to dig his fingers into the skin and never let go. His body was more than excited by the idea, which meant for Harry that it was about time to get into the water before his enthusiasm became even clearer.

He walked with big steps towards the blond, who stood with his back to him, running both his hands through his hair. The cooling down became more and more urgent. So Harry grabbed Draco's wrist, ignored the surprised protest and pulled him into the lake to the others. The water was cooler than expected, but just what Harry needed. He didn't let go off Draco until he tried to hose him with water. Laughing, Harry ducked away and fled further into the middle of the lake.

The others went on with their own water fight, somewhere Hedwig paddled between rowing limbs and screaming laughter. No one cared about Draco and Harry. Draco seemed to notice this too, as he followed Harry until the water reached his shoulders and he held his hair at his neck with one hand so it wouldn't get wet. Harry laughed at the sight and reaped a pouty grumble from Draco. Harry swam towards Draco, came to a halt before him and glanced over to the others. All still distracted, could he risk it?

Draco tilted his head, a strand of hair came loose from the bun in his hand and fell into the water. Draco didn't notice. "Are you thinking about kissing me?" Draco sounded like innocence in person, only the hint of a wry grin gave him away.

Harry raised his eyebrows. Draco seemed quite willing. "Don’t tell me you're done sulking and let me?"

Draco instantly rolled his eyes and _turned away_. Before Harry could think about it for too long, he blindly reached underwater for Draco's waist – _fuck_ , bare skin – and pulled the blond closer. "Don't run," he muttered, holding Draco by his waist with one hand while the other brushed along his cheek.

Draco's breath faltered, his eyes flared, but he didn't move away anymore. Instead, he pressed his upper body closer to Harry's and moved towards him until the tips of their noses almost met. Harry's gaze fell on Draco's lips, _his mouth_.

His lips were slightly parted, if Harry had leaned in just a little, he would have felt Draco's hot breath on his skin. The tip of Draco's tongue wet his lips and Harry became dizzy. This tongue was like a well-protected treasure. When one got to see it, it was exciting. To _feel_ his tongue was like a gift from heaven. Harry would have loved nothing more than to overcome the distance between their lips, but he hesitated.

"Everything okay with you? Your sulking is kind of cute, but –"

" _Cute_?" Draco interrupted him, moved back a few millimetres and wrinkled his nose. "I'm neither _sulking_ nor _cute!"_

Draco's indignation only made the picture cuter. Harry grinned amused, pulled Draco closer again and then got a little more serious. "Yes, you are. And I don't mind as long as I get to kiss you, because – _shit_ – I can't think about anything else."

Harry's thumb traced along Draco's chin, the blond didn't seem sure whether to blush or grin smugly, so it ended up being a mixture of the two. " _Fuck_ , yes! You may kiss me, you don't always have to a-"

Draco didn't get any further because those lips cursed way too much considering Draco was such a snobbish brat and Harry's lips had clearly too little to do. Draco immediately reacted to the kiss, almost eagerly returned it, wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, forgetting the blond hair. Harry, however, didn’t forget it, reached into the silky soft mop of hair, knowing that Draco would give him credit for it and held it above the water level.

Draco sighed softly into the kiss, opened his lips for Harry, licked pleadingly into Harry’s mouth and made it hard for the man to think properly. Harry's free hand, which had just been resting on Draco's back, slid down over naked skin, over the black fabric and dug into Draco's right thigh.

Draco moaned, his hands clasped the nape of Harry's neck and he wrapped his legs around Harry's hips. The blood in Harry's veins was boiling, he let go of the blond hair, instead grabbed Draco's thighs with both hands, positioned them under Draco's bottom so that he was lifted a little bit out of the water and Harry had to crane his neck to keep kissing Draco. He felt cool, wet fingers on his cheek, the quick breath of Draco on his lips and the adrenaline shooting through his body.

Toned legs curled tighter around Harry's upper body, he dared to let one hand slide up to Draco's waist, then back down to his arse where he kneaded the soft muscle and reaped another moan from Draco. Oh hell, all his blood reacted instantly by flowing southward. Oh no, oh God, that wasn't good. They weren’t _alone_.

Suddenly very aware of this, Harry, with some effort, drew back but left his hands where they were. The grey in Draco's eyes was dark, Harry could read nothing but desire. He almost gave in to the kiss again but remembered the reason for the interruption just in time.

"The others..."

An amused smile spread on Draco's mouth before he raised his head to take a look in the direction where the others were bathing. His eyes grew wide, his smile broader. "I wouldn't turn around if I were you."

"What? Why?" Harry turned his head anyway, of course, and was hopelessly at the mercy of the others staring at them wide-eyed. "Oh, fuck."

Harry didn't know what he had expected, of course, their little snogging session didn't go unnoticed, but his checks got hot anyway. Worst of all was the look on his best friend's face. The looks of the others, however, all more or less surprised, were absolutely bearable. Ron looked _knowing_. With that expression, Sirius put on when he said something embarrassing like "Go get them, tiger" to Harry.

A little overwhelmed as to whether he should say something, or whether he should _let Draco down_ , or which was now within reason at all, Harry turned back to Draco. He still looked highly amused, crawling thoughtlessly the hair at the nape of Harry's neck and seemed to have found a solution.

"The show is over, you can go back to your boring water games," announced Draco, Harry glared at him angrily. That was a _flippant_ way of dealing with this.

But it worked. Seamus just shouted “nobody here’s surprised anyway" and dunked a surprised Dean underwater. Almost instantly, Draco and Harry were once again secondary, leaving Harry exhaling with relief. His gaze fell on Draco's lips again, which didn’t go unnoticed.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Draco asked, leaning down to Harry's ear.

"God, _yes_ ," Harry uttered, earning a faint laugh from Draco.

Then Harry let go of the blond, only holding him by the waist to keep him from falling over in the water. Draco held his hair in the back of his neck – _Of course_ , vanity always wins – took Harry by the hand and then dragged him towards the shore. There seemed to be some truth to the decadence of the nobility after all.

Harry glanced towards the others while Draco led him along the narrow beach and further towards the edge of the forest. In passing, Draco grabbed one of the picnic blankets and ignored the "Hey, not the red one!" from Ginny. Essentially, nobody cared about the two of them, even Ginny didn't seem to mean the statement too seriously and preferred to join a game of water polo. That was... _good_ , right?

Harry didn't mind that the others knew about their _thing_ , he had even told Ron of his own free will. It was early, he was aware of that, but then again, they were all at an age when such things weren’t exactly unusual. Maybe the others just assumed that this _thing_ between Draco and Harry was just a summer fling. Was it? Harry hurriedly pushed the question away, trying to concentrate more on not stumbling over the undergrowth Draco was piloting them into.

Did Draco mind? He hadn't seemed particularly impressed by the looks, maybe Draco was the type for summer flings. That would explain Draco's balanced confidence in handling Harry. Literally. Harry felt drawn further and further into the thicket, Draco's hand in his gave him certainty, but also intensified the anticipatory tingling in his stomach. Was it important to know how Draco felt about them? Probably.

Harry cleared his throat uneasily. "Uh, you don't mind, do you? That the others saw us, I mean."

Draco looked at Harry over his shoulder in surprise but kept walking with firm steps. "Do I appear bothered?"

"Not really, no," Harry admitted. So maybe he really was the summer fling type. Harry didn't know if he'd want to know if he was just one of many, so he chose not to ask.

Draco eyed Harry over his shoulder attentively for a moment. "Potter, if it bothers _you_ , then –"

"What? No, that's not it! As long as I get to kiss you, I don't care who's watching," Harry interrupted him hastily. "It's just… Since your father –"

"Ah, terrible timing to bring up my father." Draco turned to Harry as he spoke. They had walked quite a distance into the forest. It seemed far enough for Draco's taste. "We should better get back to the kissing bit."

With that, Draco bridged the distance between their mouths and led Harry in an urging kiss that started exactly where they had stopped in the lake. Surprised but not averse, Harry responded, pulled Draco at his waist closer and inhaled the vanilla aroma thirstily. Speech suddenly became very unimportant indeed.

Draco pushed Harry a few steps back until Harry could feel tree bark on his back and a stabbing pain burst in his shoulder. Harry hissed, but before Draco could even inquire, he turned the tables. Now it was the blond who was pressed against the broad tree trunk, Harry let one hand wander down Draco's back, the other was buried in blond hair at the back of Draco's head.

Draco's tongue nudged invitingly against Harry's as if to remind him that it wanted to be noticed too, Harry didn't need to be asked twice and reaped a grateful sigh from Draco. Patience didn't seem to be Draco's strong point; it didn't take more than two minutes for Harry to feel one of Draco's hands sliding out of his hair and move unerringly to his crotch. The tingling in Harry's stomach area increased, additionally something deliciously sweet was pulling in his groins.

Draco's hand found the distinct bulge in Harry's crotch and he smiled contentedly into the kiss. Harry almost protested at that much smugness. Draco stood half-naked before him, they kissed not exactly innocently and Draco rubbed against him as if there was no tomorrow. Those were more than enough reasons to be hard after only two minutes of kissing.

"Fuck, wait," Draco murmured at Harry's lips, pushed him away a little and hurriedly began to spread the blanket he had brought with him on the forest ground. Harry's gaze lay steadfastly on Draco's bottom, which was only covered by the black thin fabric of his boxer shorts. Fuck, he was _so_ hard.

"Come here," Draco instructed, kneeling on the blanket and tapping with his fingertips on it. Harry's knees gave way and he came rather inelegantly to sit next to Draco. Draco smiled gently, then took Harry's hand in his and kissed him on the lips as light as a feather. Harry felt himself being pressed against the bark of the tree again, although it wasn’t too painful while sitting. Draco pushed his knees between Harry's legs, stopped the tender kisses only to continue them casually on Harry's fingertips.

Harry's senses boiled over. This was... _a lot_. Not only was he hard, but he was also tempted to the breaking point by Draco. Draco's cheeks and ears were tinted red, his breath was racing, blond wisps fell into his dark eyes, Harry felt like he was about to explode.

"I have a few suggestions as to what to do next... Just to be clear, you wouldn't happen to have a condom on you, would you?” Draco's voice was as soft as butter but it still took Harry's breath away. His cheeks burned as he slowly shook his head. He was completely at the mercy of Draco's attentive gaze, stared with fascination at Draco's lips, which caressed his fingertips with far too much devotion. "Okay, that’s not the end of the world. I'm sure you'll enjoy the alternative."

Harry's eyes widened and he was at a loss of words. Hell, how could a voice be so damn seductive? It wasn't fair. It was both disarming and intoxicating. Draco let go of Harry's fingers, kept his eyes on the black-haired man and began... to tie his hair into a ponytail?

It shouldn't have turned Harry on the way it did. But Draco's fingers, running through the blond, carefully pulling each strand in one direction and taming it, blew synapses in Harry's brain that he didn't even know existed. He would have loved to reach into the hair himself, hold it and have a little too much power over Draco.

Draco's gaze fell on Harry's crotch, Harry was sure his enthusiasm was more than evident, and then drifted back up to Harry's lips. A smile touched the corners of his bloody mouth and Draco began to fasten the high ponytail with a hair tie.

"What – What are you doing?" Harry's throat was dry as dust, and the question was about as gullible as he looked.

Draco's smile broadened. "What does it look like to you? I'm going to suck you off, _Harry_."

_Holy. Shit._

"Unless you have any objections?" Draco inquired sugar-sweet, let his hands slide out of his hair and crept a little closer to Harry.

"God, no," Harry uttered in a trembling voice. He was pitiful, no normal person should crave that much for these bloody lips to –

Draco kissed him. More gentle than demanding. As if he wanted to reassure him, to calm him. "Just relax, all right? You'll like it."

All of a sudden Harry realised _why_ Draco was talking to him like that. "Ah, it's not – Uh, the first time anyone's ever done…. You know," Harry said without much glory.

Draco raised an eyebrow sceptically and leaned back a little to eye Harry's face. "Are you sure? It would be fine if –"

Harry rolled his eyes and cut Draco off. "I _know_ it’s fine. I'm not nervous because this is my first..." Harry broke off, took a deep breath, looked into curious grey eyes and continued talking in a firm voice. "It's because of you. You are... different." _Special_. _You drive me crazy. I've never wanted someone as much as I want you now. I'm not nervous. I'm just crazy about you._

"Oh," Draco's cheeks only turned redder and his smile was a little sheepish. The expression suited Draco, Harry had to smile instantly.

And then Draco smiled back, leaned over to capture Harry's mouth with his and let a hand slide into Harry's boxers. Harry groaned instantly into the kiss, grabbed Draco's waist with both hands, but the blond withdrew, instead continued his kisses on Harry's neck and down over his chest. Every kiss, every touch of his tongue left a trail of flames on Harry's skin. He let his fingers wander along Draco's cheek, stroking gently over his chin, bucked to meet the friction on his crotch and just allowed his moans to flow.

As soon as Draco reached the waistband of the shorts, Harry willingly lifted his arse and reaped an amused but also heated smile from Draco, who pulled the piece of fabric down and thus exposed Harry's throbbing erection. Harry watched Draco's reaction closely, gently traced the shape of Draco's lips with his thumb and soaked up every precious second. Draco's gaze lay spellbound on Harry's cock, his long fingers wrapped around the length, but the movement was sluggish. Draco bit his lip and Harry could have sworn Draco was trying to control his breathing. A few blond strands that had come loose from the ponytail fell on Draco's face and tickled Harry's thighs. Harry gasped softly.

"You don't have to –" Harry managed to say, out of intuition rather than decency. Draco calmly returned Harry's gaze, then opened his mouth a little and Harry's thumb sank between his lips. Harry moaned at the sight and closed his eyes as the stimuli slowly but surely drove him insane.

He pulled his hand away, his thumb tingling like crazy, opened his eyes while he straightened up a little and leaned over to Draco who watched Harry in surprise. "Let me –" Harry broke off, wheezing as Draco increased the pressure on his cock but then he grabbed Draco's hips firmly and pulled them closer.

Draco gasped in surprise, but when he realised what Harry had in mind, he positioned himself without needing to be asked. He turned around so that his upper body lay a bit on Harry's stomach and he still had Harry's erection in front of his face, his lower body, however, lay next to Harry's upper body, Harry only had to stretch out his hand and he would be able to touch the seductive skin.

And so Harry did. Breathlessly, because Draco had meanwhile taken to massaging his balls, but focused and with a clear goal in sight. Well, actually, he had the back of a blond head in sight and Draco’s arse in his hand. Draco gasped at the touch and his warm breath brushed against Harry's cock. Harry's hip bucked towards Draco as if automatically, begging silently for more.

But because Draco took his time, spreading only feather-light kisses on Harry's belly and letting his hand do the work, Harry remembered that a bare arse could actually be a beautiful view. So he cumbersomely pushed the black shorts to Draco's knees and sighed at the sight. _Definitely_ muscles. Harry stroked gently along Draco's inner thigh, kneaded the skin under his fingers and moaned softly.

Without wasting time Harry moistened one finger with his saliva, led it back to Draco's bottom, which the blond presented so perfectly. He let his finger travel along the crack, Draco willingly spread his legs and bent his outer knee a little. _Fuck_. Harry's finger slipped into the wet tightness and Draco whimpered. The angle was awkward and it wasn't exactly conducive that Draco decided to close his lips around Harry's erection just at that moment, but the feeling was still pure luck mixed with burning lust that electrified the air.

Harry heard incomprehensible words rolling off his tongue, tried to keep the movement of his finger and not get lost in Draco's wet mouth. The feeling was intoxicating, better than Harry could ever have imagined. Draco was of course not only dexterous with his fingers, but his tongue could also keep up perfectly in this game.

Something gathered in Harry's groins, his panting became more pronounced and the back of Draco's head sank noticeably faster down on Harry. Harry's finger in Draco was already weakening, but Draco knew how to help himself, reached between his legs to touch himself and rhythmically let his hips move towards Harry's hand.

Harry's heart was racing, a feeling like goosebumps shot through his body and he heard himself plead Draco's name before he poured himself into Draco's mouth. His breath went fast, his muscles tensed and gave way, the orgasm clouded his mind for a moment, made him forget his own name.

But when reality hit Harry like cold water, he didn't need any prompting for what followed. Still a little weak but decisive, he grabbed Draco by the hips, turned him onto his back and in the same movement bent over the blond, who only gasped in shock but then bit his lip. The lip where traces of Harry's orgasm were still visible. Harry suppressed a moan at the sight, wiped Draco clean with his thumb and then kissed him with all the passion he could muster.

Draco tasted of seawater and of something unknown that could only be Harry himself. He let a hand drop between Draco's legs, who had spread them willingly for Harry. Draco moaned contentedly into the kiss, as soon as Harry began to massage his cock. It didn’t take long, Draco surrendered to Harry as if he had never done anything else. As his body tensed under Harry, Draco's breath faltered and his eyes fluttered shut, Harry placed gentle kisses to the corner of the mouth he so urgently desired.

Draco's breath returned, he sighed with satisfaction and then he pulled Harry's body close to kiss him again. Damn, Harry would never forget these lips.

~

"Are you sure you want to sit on this blanket, Weasley?" Draco grinned defiantly up at Ron, who had come to a halt next to Draco and Harry's picnic blanket, toying with the idea of settling down.

It was late afternoon by now, Draco and Harry had returned from the woods a while earlier, mingled with the group again and enjoyed the cooling in the lake. Eventually, fatigue and a second hunger had taken hold of them and they had all settled down on the picnic blankets on the shore. Draco had demonstratively sat down between Harry's legs, leaning with his back against Harry's chest and hadn't moved away since. Harry would have never complained, even if Draco's body was a tiny bit too warm to be considered thoroughly comfortable.

Still, everything about this was perfect. Draco in his arms, Hedwig lying next to Harry who let him tickle her between her ears (now that Harry was paying attention to it, he actually noticed that Draco reacted a bit distant to the dog, maybe there was more to Lupin's story than expected) and the exuberant conversations of his friends made the day flawless.

"Disgusting," Ron grumbled, but then he actually went a few steps further and sat down on the picnic blanket that Ginny had occupied with Luna, Neville and Hermione.

Harry looked reproachfully at the back of Draco's head. "Can you stop that?"

Draco cocked an eyebrow, turned his head towards Harry and smiled innocently. "I don't know what you’re talking about."

 _Of course_ not. Draco downright basked in the fact that they no longer needed to hide, which had something beautiful to it, but Harry could have done without the implications. He let one hand slip into Draco's hair, now loose again, and began, lost in thought, to massage the back of Draco's head. Yes truly, everything was bloody perfect.

"Hey, lovebirds," Ginny called out to them. "Is this going to last the rest of the week and we'll never catch you two apart again?"

Harry looked amusedly in Ginny's direction. "Why? Are you jealous?"

The redhead snorted in amusement. "You wish, Harry sweetie pie, but I’m not. I simply don't want to be forced to hang out with Ron all the time now!"

"Hey! I'm your _brother_ , show some _respect!"_ Ron complained next to her.

"Ron can hang out with us! As long as he doesn't try to convince us to play a game of chess," Dean offered from the other picnic blanket.

"Can you – I am not a _toy_ that you can pass around! Harry, say something," Ron continued annoyed. Harry just laughed softly into the blond hair before his face.

A little discussion flared up about who would be Ron's babysitter now that Harry was too busy, Draco followed it amused and after a while turned his head to Harry.

"Why would Weasley be jealous?" he asked, frowning.

Harry absently reached for Draco's hand as he answered. "When she was about 10 years old, Ginny was madly in love with me. She always turned bright red whenever I went to visit Ron and gave me strange nicknames in her diar–"

"Hey!" Ginny cried in outrage, she had apparently heard Harry. "First of all, I was _ten_ , second, I wasn't _madly in love_ , at best impressed, and third, I told you about the nicknames in _confidence!"_

Harry laughed again and Ginny gave him the finger with an insincere grin.

"As long as the 'little angel here, little angel there' doesn't start up again, you can all call each other what you like," Pansy joined the conversation. Draco's body tensed in Harry's arms.

" _Who_ was called little angel?" Ron instantly asked curiously.

" _No one_ ," hissed Draco, before Pansy had a chance to answer. Draco glared briefly in her direction, Pansy looked almost apologetic, sealed her lips and looked over to Ron and Hermione. Ron just raised his hands, murmured a "never asked" and then teased Ginny about her old diary.

Harry took the opportunity to clear his throat quietly and tap the back of Draco's hand with his fingertip. "Were _you_ called little angel?"

Draco didn't turn to Harry, just tensed up more. "I don't want to talk about it."

Usually, Harry was a man who respected boundaries one hundred per cent, but his lips moved on their own. " _Who_ called you –"

" _Potter_ ," Draco interrupted him gruffly.

Harry exhaled audibly. A thought flashed through his mind inexorably. "Did Viktor call you that?"

Viktor, whom Draco had met through his passion for horses and who had spent a summer with Draco on Weeping Willow Farmstead two years ago. It wasn't too unrealistic, was it? Not when considering how Draco reacted as soon as he was mentioned and the confidence with which he handled _summer flings_.

Harry interpreted Draco's silence as confirmation. He struggled to find the right words and almost regretted having asked at all. Something had happened between them. Something that upset Draco and left him peaceless. The need for clarity was growing in Harry, he would have liked to ask further, even though he would certainly not have received an answer from Draco.

"Just don't call me that," Draco murmured, leaning a little closer to Harry's chest. Something unpleasant was spreading in Harry – bloody jealousy. He knew it was ridiculous because Draco was sitting here with _him_ and not with Viktor. But it worried him that Draco still reacted so intensively to the mention of Viktor. There were old feelings at play, right? Did it even matter? Again, Draco was _with Harry_ and he was happy _with Harry_ , otherwise, he wouldn't have stayed with him when the man had urged him to answer. That should have been enough for Harry, and for now, it was.

"'Prince and the Pea' has a better ring to it anyway," Harry whispered in Draco's ear and reaped an outraged protest and an elbow in his ribs from Draco. Harry laughingly gasped for breath and held Draco until he stopped sulking.

The day ended pleasantly. The group stayed at the lake until the evening hours and only made their way back when the mosquitoes became too bothersome. The ride back to the farm was without disaster. The ponies were well-behaved, the conversation filled with laughter. Tired of the day they took their time. Hedwig walked slowly behind them, Harry had to ask her to hurry up again and again.

Darkness enveloped the courtyard as the last of them took their horses back to their respective stalls. Harry stayed in Hermione and Ron's room for a while, tiredly exchanged stories about old times, and only retired to his room around midnight, there Draco still occupied the bathroom. Harry took a well-deserved shower later regardless, but then he fell into bed with Draco, completely exhausted, and fell asleep immediately.

~

The next morning Harry woke up neither from unpleasant heat on his chest nor from annoying alarm beeps. Yawning and stretching, Harry looked around the small room. A few rays of sunlight fought their way through the gap in the curtain and illuminated the room, in Harry's bed lay a blurred white blob, Hedwig, he definitely had to stop her from sleeping in the bed. Harry fumbled for his glasses on Draco's bed stand, he lay in Draco's bed after all and then took a look at his phone display. It was a quarter to eight on July 31st. Harry put his phone aside again and concentrated completely on the body lying next to him in bed.

Draco lay on his side, turned away from Harry, his legs wrapped around the blanket, which he thus claimed completely for himself, his blond braided hair falling over his shoulder. Harry's gaze travelled down on Draco, his sleeping shirt had ridden up a little and exposed a strip of pale skin just above his waistband. Harry's breath faltered, his hand automatically moved to Draco's waist and he turned to his side to press his upper body against Draco's back.

The morning tiredness was long forgotten, instead, Harry placed light kisses behind Draco's ear, on his neck, his jawline, while his fingers slipped under his sleeping shirt and explored the warm, naked skin. It wasn’t long before Draco reacted. The blond sighed comfortably, presented his neck to Harry and pushed his body closer to Harry's. Harry accepted the invitation, placed kisses on his neck, then shoved up the hem of the shirt and watched in fascination as Draco's chest rose and fell rapidly.

"Potter", Draco whispered in a throaty, still sleepy voice, arched his back so that he could press his bottom closer to Harry's crotch. "You haven't fed the horses yet, have you?"

A little surprised and distracted, Harry just made a questioning sound until he realised that Draco was indeed this _complete arse_ to whom nothing, not even sex, was more important than his ambition. "Ron’s doing that for me today," Harry replied, continuing the kisses on Draco's neck.

Draco stopped the movement of his hips on Harry's crotch and gave Harry a suddenly very alert and shocked look over his shoulder. "He is the _competition_ , he’ll never –"

"Oh my God, of course, he'll do it. Relax," Harry interrupted him, clearly dissatisfied with the loss of friction. But then he had a better idea. "You're okay with this, right? Do you want me to go on?"

Draco's gaze softened, he let his head sink back into the pillow and sighed as Harry let his fingertips move across Draco's stomach towards the waistband. "Yahhh," he whimpered and Harry chuckled softly.

Following his new plan, Harry continued his kisses on Draco's neck, shoved the shirt up his back as well, positioned Draco's body so that the blond lay on his stomach and kissed his way down his back. He took his time, caressed every centimetre of the warm skin and enjoyed the thin line between lust and tenderness. Draco melted under his touches like butter and Harry gratefully absorbed every sigh.

Harry's fingers slipped under Draco's waistband, Draco willingly lifted his hips a little so that Harry could pull the silky fabric down. The sight shut Harry’s mind off until further notice. Draco's _fucking_ thighs and sweet cheeks looked temptingly delicious. Harry's fingers dug into a pale thigh, Harry's lips found Draco's tailbone, his blood threatened to boil over.

Draco moaned softly, arched his back, raised his head and looked at Harry over his shoulder. The clear grey, as dark as Harry _loved_ it, focused on him, waiting. Draco wanted to _watch,_ Harry's cheeks grew hot. Without wasting a thought to further consequences, Harry continued his kisses southwards, grabbed the thigh firmer, felt the muscle under his fingers tense and relax again and spread Draco's legs a little more.

"Harry Potter, _time to get up_ ," a clear, cheerful voice chanted through the hallway of the first floor, followed by a knock at their room door.

Draco froze and Harry needed a moment to return to reality. Then he found his voice again. "Uh, yes, I'm awake. I’ll be there in five minutes, Ginny."

A "Not a minute more!" followed, then footsteps that walked away from the door and Harry exhaled with relief. Draco relaxed a little as well, but his gaze, still on Harry, remained dark and hungry. Harry smiled back guiltily and formed a "sorry" with his lips. Draco groaned annoyed and dropped his head on the pillow while Harry sat up on the bed.

"There's _one_ rule, Potter," Draco grumbled, pulling his trousers back over his bottom. " _Finish_ what you started. Especially if you woke me for it."

Harry watched in disappointment as the last bit of naked skin disappeared beneath the light blue fabric. "We'll just put it off till later, I _promise_.” He looked up at Draco's face. The light hair fell stubbornly on his face, his cheeks flushed. He pushed his lower lip forward a little bit and frowned. Hell, he would _unquestionably_ keep his promise!

"Would it be easier for you not to sulk if I told you that today’s my birthday?" Harry asked casually, rose and went to his wardrobe.

" _What?"_

"You mean 'pardon'," Harry corrected and grinned at a perplexed Draco over his shoulder. "And I'd hurry up if I were you, Ron's probably brought a cake somewhere. You do like cake, don't you? You liked the chocolate muffin."

Draco blinked a few times too quickly to gather himself. "I – Potter, wait a minute!"

But Harry didn't wait. He walked into their bathroom and closed the door behind him. This was going to be an exquisite day. There was no other possibility at all when it had started with Draco's speechlessness.

~

There was indeed a cake. Ron had managed to get a cake every year since Harry's twelfth birthday and didn’t disappoint this year. It was a cheap raspberry cake from the discount store that he had hidden in the kitchen freezer, Harry was thrilled to bits. Even though Harry hadn’t announced his nineteenth birthday, everyone knew about it when he entered the dining hall with Draco. They had all pitched in, moved the tables to form one big table and made a garland with his name on it. Congratulations were yelled at him, he was hugged far too often, then the cake was cut and everyone got their fair share. With twelve people each got only a small piece, but it didn't bother anyone in the least.

Instead, the mood was cheerful, the others talked about past horse-riding holidays and birthdays that had been celebrated at the farm. Ron told them about the first birthday he had celebrated with Harry, and how the little boy had been so happy about a self-made paper airplane Ron had made that he had cried all day after it sank in a stream. Harry rolled his eyes and reminded Ron of how he had regularly hidden behind Harry to escape his first girlfriend. " _You_ had a girlfriend?" Theo asked, impressed, and Ginny laughed out loud for five minutes straight about it. Ron kicked her three times against the shin, but he didn't feel genuinely offended. Especially since Hermione gave him amused looks and then whispered something into his ear that made Ron blush. 

Draco sulked. From his perspective, however, he was probably a pure angel of innocence, but Harry noticed it anyway. At first, he was convinced that it was because Ginny had interrupted them, but as the day progressed, Draco's true problem became clearer. He sulked because Harry hadn't told him about his birthday. More precisely, he sulked _because he hadn’t been able to get Harry a present_.

The realisation was strange, Harry didn’t quite understand the meaning of material gifts even after years. Draco, on the other hand, did seem to think it was important. He shouldn't be surprised, Draco was showering everyone with gifts who would allow it. Pansy was probably the only one of the group who didn't find this at all unpleasant, and Draco loved that about her like nothing else. In that respect, they were truly made for each other.

Given this premise, Harry could have expected Draco to be planning something. He _should_ have expected it after Draco had vanished off the face of the earth during their riding lesson and reappeared with a self-satisfied grin on his lips and gave Harry a kiss on the cheek without a word of explanation where the hell he had been.

Then in the afternoon, the realisation hit him. The second lesson about riding figures had been surprisingly long and Harry had downright died in the sun, so he had taken an extra-long, cold shower afterwards. When he came out of the bathroom, Draco was already waiting cross-legged on the lilac sofa and asked him how he felt about cinemas.

Cinemas. Draco and cinemas. Draco and a _date_? It took Harry's mind a few seconds to click. But his hunch wasn’t entirely correct. Draco _hadn't_ arranged a date for himself and Harry, Harry wasn't even sure if there were any cinemas within a radius of fifty kilometres. No, Draco invited him. To his home.

"My parents are out of town and we have a cinema room on our property that is used far too rarely," Draco explained with an innocent expression. "I know that Finnigan and Longbottom have been keen on it for years, so I took the liberty of inviting the others as well. Our driver will pick them up in two hours. We could wait with them, but you've got that scooter you're so obsessed with..."

Harry spared the word of thanks and immediately pulled Draco into an embrace that took the blond by surprise, but he seemed anything but averse. The rest was quickly sorted out. Hedwig stayed overnight on the farm with the Longbottoms. Mrs Longbottom only allowed the overnight party because it was Harry's birthday and on the condition that they returned the next morning in time for breakfast. The excitement among the others rose, Dean asked three times whether Draco had _really_ called the Malfoys' chauffeur, nudged him against the shoulder for each affirmation and repeated how wicked that was. Harry could only agree with that but had no problem at all not being picked up by the big black car and instead using his Vespa.

Half an hour later Harry stood next to his scooter, handed Draco a helmet and put on his own as well. Draco muttered something about "ruining his hair", Harry laughed about it, bit back a comment about unhealthy vanity, then they got on, Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's belly and they drove off.

By now Harry could admit that he truly liked riding a horse. But riding his scooter through the empty streets in the afternoon sun, feeling Draco's body against his and the wind in his face had something magical about it. Harry rode more carefully than usual, Draco was precious cargo after all and it was doubly worthwhile to pay attention to the traffic rules.

The Malfoy estate wasn’t far from Weeping Willow Farmstead, a quarter of an hour's scooter ride that Harry enjoyed with every second. The estate was gigantic, perverse if Harry was honest. Most of it was the garden, more likely a park, which stretched out in front of a majestic neo-Romanesque manor. Harry had suspected that Draco's family had money, but he had never guessed that they had _that_ much money.

"It's been in the family for generations, it's not as if we paid for it," Draco tried his hand at humility when he noticed Harry's bewildered look. They had just stopped in front of the manor with the arched windows and got off the, suddenly very tiny, scooter.

Harry snorted and pulled his helmet off his head. "When I called you prince, I didn’t think you already owned your castle."

Draco rolled his eyes while he tried to save his hopelessly ruined hair with his fingers. "Firstly, _I_ don't own anything, and secondly, you're lucky I don't call you peasant."

Harry grinned defiantly at Draco but bit back any comment. Instead, he let Draco lead him inside the manor. The splendour only continued there, the Malfoys didn't seem to think much of modest minimalism. An astonishing amount of gold was present in the interior decoration and gave the house a certain baroque charm. The walls were decorated with paintings and magnificent chandeliers hung from the ceilings. Harry tried hard not to look too impressed, instead, he was guided through pompous hallways until, as Draco announced, they reached the east wing.

This one was furnished in a much more modern style, the colour white even dominated the gold. In the kitchen were cupboards without handles that worked with touch sensors (Harry didn't even wonder why that was necessary), the light went on and off when it was told to and the sofas looked uncomfortable but very expensive. So the east wing fulfilled all the clichés about how bourgeois people with too much money lived.

When the butler, Charles, greeted them warmly and with half a bow, Harry had to pull himself together to suppress his fit of laughter. Draco hissed something about "rudeness" at him and nudged him with his elbow into the side. But when Harry shook Charles' hand and tried to make small talk, Draco was even more horrified, babbled about "etiquette" and "lack of education" and dragged Harry down more hallways until they reached one of Draco's rooms.

The room could be described as a mixture of "I have too much money and show it by treating myself and only getting the hottest shit" and "I like kitsch, vintage and gold". Harry wouldn’t necessarily have described it as stylish, but despite or exactly because of that, he immediately liked it. The canopy bed was gigantic and rather in the pompous baroque style, just like the man-sized arched window, which offered the perfect view of a small pond in the park and on the sides of which huge dark green curtains were attached. The rest of Draco's furnishings were in dark brown tones, but more modern. On the desk lay neatly sorted school folders and an overpriced computer. There was a bookshelf set into the wall, which contained an impressive number of books, and a wardrobe with large mirrored doors. All in all, a room that seemed to fit Draco well.

While Draco took fresh clothes from his wardrobe and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, Harry took a closer look at the bookshelf, went on to an elegant looking armchair placed in front of the window, sat down on it and noticed a small black booklet balancing on the armrest of the armchair. Curiosity had always been Harry's weakness, so he risked a glance.

It was Draco's sketchbook. The first pages were filled with sketches of narcissi, then the pond in front of the window, then animals that had visited the pond. From birds to rabbits to peacocks, everything was there. Draco's drawings were good, all drawn only with a soft lead pencil, but perfect in Harry's eyes. He could almost see the blond in front of his inner eye, sitting on the armchair, his gaze concentrated on the paper, the hatched black appearing under his fingers.

Harry turned the pages, drawings of Feykir followed, of his ears, his mane, his legs, Harry smiled. Draco truly adored this pony. Then there were sketches of people. Some of them were incomplete, sometimes Draco had only worked out one feature in particular. Harry recognized Draco's friends, Pansy, Blaise, Theo, but also unknown faces, Harry assumed that they were other friends. At wild curls, Harry paused in surprise. Hermione? Harry flipped the page and his chest suddenly became tight. Viktor.

"They're not particularly good.”

Startled, Harry spun around and, at the same time, closed the book again. Draco leaned against the door frame of the bathroom and watched Harry carefully. This would have been the time for Harry to apologise in embarrassment, but he was completely deprived of his voice.

Draco looked _stunning_. He wore his blond hair halfway down. He had only tied the top hair into a ponytail, the rest of the hair fell silky over his shoulders. A few strands had already come loose from the ponytail and fell into Draco's face. The hair alone would have taken Harry's breath away, but Draco's outfit was the real reason why Harry was glad that he had already sat down. His knees would have probably just given way.

Draco wore _booty shorts_. Not "shorts," but clearly _booty_ shorts. They sat loosely on his waist but were tight enough to perfectly accentuate the curve of his back and thighs. Draco had tucked a loose t-shirt into his waistband, which also emphasized his waist and sent Harry to heaven. Picking up his jaw from the floor, Harry stared at the blond with wide eyes. "Wow."

Draco raised an amused eyebrow, pushed himself off the door frame and walked barefoot towards Harry, only to stop in front of him and take the sketchbook from his hands. As Harry continued to stare, undecided where to look first or last, he let the book slap against Harry's upper arm. Awakened from his trance, Harry made a perplexed protest sound and rubbed the aching spot.

"For opening untitled books without permission. This could have been my _diary_ ," Draco protested, folding his arms across his chest.

"Do you _have_ a diary?" Harry asked, snapping his gaze away from Draco's legs. When he watched the blond whips of hair, it would seem to Draco as if Harry was concentrating on listening.

" _No_ ," Draco replied so defiantly that Harry didn't believe a word he said.

Harry's mouth curled into an honest smile and he reached out a hand to Draco's waist. Draco let himself be persuaded very reluctantly and moved only a small step closer. Harry's smile broadened. "You're very talented."

Compliments always worked like a miracle in Draco's whims. A soft smile appeared on Draco's face, he moved closer to Harry all by himself and let one hand drop into the dark hair. Harry closed his eyes with relish, one hand loosely at Draco's waist, the other blindly groping for Draco's leg.

Draco twitched a little at the touch and Harry opened his eyes again. His gaze fell on the fading bruise he had just touched. Harry pulled Draco closer again, this time being careful not to touch the sensitive area. Almost reverently, he watched his own fingertips move over the bare skin of Draco's leg, up and down.

Harry could downright hear Draco smiling. "Are legs your thing, Potter?"

Harry lifted his head to look at Draco, noted with satisfaction that Draco's cheeks were flushed and turned his attention back to Draco's thighs. "Actually, everything about you is my thing."

Draco inhaled sharply. Harry let his hand travel to the hollow of Draco's knee and then pulled gently. The blond followed the silent request, lifted his leg and placed it next to Harry on the seat of the armchair. Harry suppressed a sigh, stroked gently further over the warm skin of the bent leg and looked up at Draco again. Draco had parted his lips slightly, his breath went faster and his grip in Harry's hair became firmer.

"I've been thinking about a gift for you," Draco said in a more or less steady voice. Harry raised his eyebrows questioningly and Draco kept talking. "It wasn’t easy. Parkinson, I'd treat with a shopping trip to the Parisian designer shops, but you..." Draco held his breath as Harry began to place light kisses on the inside of his thigh.

"Since – Since you didn't tell me it’s your birthday today and Paris is too much of a cliché anyway, I thought – _oh fuck!"_ Draco's voice trembled, Harry was still caressing his thigh with his lips, but his fingers lingered on his arse and had just grasped it firmly. "– I thought that I would at least bring the designers to you!"

Harry paused. _What?_ He had only listened with half an ear, but that got his attention. "Two things: I don't know anything about designers and I prefer _this_ to any trip to Paris. Flying is bad for the environment anyway."

Draco rolled his eyes, he was more in control of his senses again without Harry's lips on his leg. " _This_ ," Draco made an overly obvious gesture to his clothes. "– is Oscar di la renta. And _this_ –" Draco pulled down his trouser waistband a little, exposing something black and net-like, at the sight of which Harry's mouth became dry as dust. "– Is Louis Vuitton."

Harry first stared at the spot where the net had been visible a moment ago, then he looked into Draco's eyes. "Would it be rude to say I'd rather see you with your clothes off?"

Draco's smile became smug, his eyes dark. "Incredibly rude. Eat me, Potter, I've thought this _through!"_

Harry bit his lower lip and he looked back at Draco challengingly. "That's the plan."

A moan escaped Draco’s mouth and not a second later, he was sitting on Harry's lap, knees bent, pressing his lips against Harry's. Greedily, Harry returned the kiss, opened his lips for Draco, ran one hand into light hair to grasp it. Draco cupped Harry's face, the kiss was more desperate than tender and Draco rolled his hips at least as desperate against Harry's crotch. All the blood instantly shot to his cock and made him moan.

"Bed," Draco commanded in a shaky voice. Harry nodded into the kiss, hurriedly pushed the blond off his lap and got up as well. He shoved Draco backwards to his bed and took their shirts off while he was still walking. Hell, it was _hot_.

Draco let himself fall back onto his bed, let Harry push him onto the middle of the sheet and continued the kiss uninhibited. Their rhythm was perfect as if they had never done anything else. Soft moans escaped their mouths, Harry leaned over Draco, broke the kiss, watched Draco's hair fanning out onto the silk and noticed the coarse-meshed net above Draco's waistband.

Harry's eyes widened and he licked his lips. "Can I –"

"Heavens, _yes!"_ Draco interrupted him and began to take off his shorts. Too fascinated to do something else, Harry watched him. Under his shorts, Draco wore a touch of _nothing_. Quite literally. Only a skin-tight, coarse-meshed net with a diamond-shaped pattern covered or rather exposed the areas that had just been hidden by the shorts.

Harry's mouth was dry, he needed so much more than water. He needed Draco. He needed him right here, right now. Harry pressed his lips pleadingly against Draco's, while he clumsily took his own shorts off and panted as Draco bit his lower lip. _Fuck_ , this was both intoxicating and overwhelming.

Draco's hands explored Harry's back, stroking along his spine, pulling him closer, so that Harry eventually lay between Draco's legs. One hand on Draco's hips, the other travelled along Draco's thighs, Harry just let himself dissolve. His hips moved as if by magic against Draco who picked up the movement and responded. Harry moaned, interrupted the kiss to concentrate only on the sweet friction. Draco's hot breath brushed against his lips, Harry buried his nose in the crook of Draco's neck. He smelled of vanilla and something floral, Harry greedily inhaled the scent.

"Harry," Draco pleaded like he never would outside of this context. His name drooling out of Draco's mouth caused goosebumps on his skin and made him even harder, although at this point that was probably impossible. Through the thin fabric of his boxer shorts, Harry could _feel_ the net covering Draco's skin, it tempted Harry immensely. He let his hand touch it, felt the coarse-meshed fabric, silky short hair, Draco's hardness... Draco moaned, pushed his hips towards Harry's hand and body and Harry obeyed the silent plea.

His lips hovering just millimetres over the pale skin, Harry plunged down. Let his tongue slide over Draco's upper body as he slowly but steadily worked his way southwards. Draco's fingers found Harry's hair, one hand reached for Harry's glasses and then his orientation was taken away. But he didn't need his sight to explore Draco's body. Instead, Harry took his time, let Draco whimper under his kisses. His tongue found the hard nipples, he gently brushed his thumb over the scar tissue just a little below. Harry's boxers became steadily tighter.

Harry continued his exploration until he lay between Draco's spread legs and ran his fingers over the coarse net pattern in fascination. He could literally see the harsh, coarse fabric cutting into the soft skin of Draco's thighs and had to suppress a moan. He glanced at Draco, watched blurrily how the blond reached into his own hair, one hand stayed buried in Harry's dark curls. Harry breathed a kiss between Draco's legs and reaped a sweet gasp.

With his fingers he placed the fishnet exactly where he needed it, then he leaned in and took Draco's cock in his mouth. Draco smelled of vanilla even between his legs, but also of something rich that made Harry's heart race. It was _good_ , straining for his nerves, but exciting. Harry sucked and licked at Draco's cock, dipped his nose into the blond soft hair, held Draco's hips with his hands as Draco whimpered and squirmed under the touch. Oh, how Harry would have loved to remedy his own erection, but that could wait.

Harry lifted his head, met Draco's gaze and didn’t need to be able to see him to know that he had completely fallen for Harry. "Are you okay? Do you feel good?", Harry asked while replacing his tongue between Draco's legs with his fingertips. The question came rather late, which the moans of Draco only confirmed, but Harry asked it anyway.

"Yes, just _fuck_ –" Draco gasped, his leg trembled slightly. "Come back here."

Harry frowned, but complied with the request without objection. He leaned over Draco until they were at eye level again and was met by Draco's pleading lips. "I want –" Draco began in a trembling voice. "I want you to fuck me."

 _God_ , how much Harry would have given to see the look on Draco's face at that moment. But even without his glasses, he knew that Draco's cheeks were turning red. "I think that’s feasible," Harry whispered with significantly more self-control than he would have thought he was capable of.

"Good," Draco mumbled to Harry's lips, then he pushed Harry away impatiently, turned on his stomach and crawled to the edge of the bed to look for something in the bedside drawer. Meanwhile, Harry's gaze lay fascinated on Draco's arse, which could only look more delicious when covered by the net. Harry let his hand roam over the soft skin, almost heard Draco's smile. Then the blond turned around, placed himself backwards under Harry again, his hair tickled on Harry's arms and he held a condom out to him.

"Do you want me to –"

Harry took the condom from Draco's hand and shook his head. If Draco wanted this to last longer than five minutes, Harry had to put the condom on himself. "And you're absolutely sure about this? We can wait, we don't have to rush into anything," Harry asked as he pulled his boxer shorts into the hollow of his knees and squeezed his erection once before rolling the condom on.

Draco's eyes lay on Harry's finger and he bit his lip. "I'm sure." A smile spread on Harry's mouth, he pressed a kiss on Draco's pointy nose and then playfully nudged it with the tip of his own nose. Draco wrapped his legs around Harry's waist and his arms around his neck. "And you're sure about this, too?"

Harry nodded a little too enthusiastically, bringing an amused smile to Draco's face. "Still, you should probably know I've never –" Harry broke off. A Blowjob or some fingerwork he already knew, but _this_ was new. His previous experience didn't matter. Harry _needed_ Draco. He needed him as close as possible. He couldn't wait any longer, he needed to be _inside_ him. As if Draco could read his mind, he positioned himself under Harry, kissed Harry's lips again, reassuringly and light as a feather grabbed his cock and aligned it just right.

All Harry had to do was move his hips forward a little and – _Oh_. Draco was tight and damn wet. The sensation was _more_ than Harry could ever have expected, so he paused, let his body process the stimuli to avoid coming instantly. Draco's fingers soothed his upper arm, he placed light kisses to Harry's chin and neck. It didn't exactly help with the overstimulation, but it did _things_ to Harry that he didn't want to miss anymore.

Because Harry had apparently solidified into a hard-breathing pillar of salt, Draco took matters into his own hands. He arched his back, rolled his hips and thus imitated the movement Harry was actually supposed to be doing. Harry's eyes opened wide and he tensed his body to control himself, closed his eyes with concentration and dropped his head into Draco's crook of the neck. He heard Draco laughing softly beneath him.

If Harry hadn't been floating on cloud nine and higher, he might have huffed, but now... hell, he was _grateful_ that Draco was doing the work for him, so he could use all his concentration to not come instantly. "Relax, don't think," Draco breathed to his ear, fondling his hair, the movement of his hips turned sluggish. Harry sighed, focused only on Draco's scent and the closeness of his body. He actually relaxed.

" _God_ , you’re driving me mad," Harry moaned, kissed Draco on the mouth, pleadingly and hot. He finally thrust into Draco, let the feeling of lust simply take over his body from head to toe. Draco moaned in surprise, his legs parted from Harry's hips and fell open onto the sheet next to Harry's body. Harry dug one hand into the inside of one thigh, the other hand lay at Draco's neck and held on to blond hair.

At first, he continued Draco's sluggish rhythm, soon found his own, to the beat of his chasing heartbeat. Harry heard nothing but Draco's panting on his lips, felt nothing but Draco's heated body underneath him yearning for it and let himself be catapulted to the highest heights and deepest hell. It was so simple, so made for each other. Their bodies, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Harry felt feverish, heat and cold rushing through his veins and fighting for dominance.

" _Harry_ ," Draco moaned, let a hand drop from Harry's hair and reached between their bodies and his legs. Harry continued to thrust, felt the net rubbing against his throbbing erection every time he let himself sink into Draco. That feeling finished Harry off. The orgasm was expected, yet unannounced. His body tensed, he groaned throatily and deeply and just collapsed on Draco's body. He saw stars dancing in front of his inner eye, the after-waves of the orgasm were pulsating in his toes and he was breathing heavily.

The blood rushed loudly in his ears, but he _felt_ the trembling of Draco's body. With a dazed mind, he only just managed to place kisses on Draco's neck and caress the blond’s quivering hips with his fingertips. Slowly but surely both their bodies calmed down, their breaths became steadier, the heartbeat healthier and the heat decreased. Carefully Harry moved off Draco, he groped blindly for his glasses and even found them beside the pillow.

Draco's skin and lips glowed in a deep red, his eyes shone in their light grey and twinkled with something that made Harry's stomach rumble. The blond hair lay tousled on the sheet, it gave Harry the urge to bury his hands in it. Draco’s chest rose and fell calmly and he raised one hand to brush a dark strand of hair from Harry's face.

"Happy birthday, Mr Potter. It was an honour to take your virginity," he whispered amusedly, smiling smugly at Harry. The latter returned the smile with a shake of his head. Just what had he gotten himself into?

A knock on the door made them jerk. "Mr Malfoy, your friends have just arrived. With your kind permission, I'll take them straight to the Cinema Room. There they will be found," sounded a piqued voice that could only belong to Charles, the butler.

Harry wondered for a terrifying second how thin the walls of Malfoy Manor were and how long Charles had been standing at their door to deliver this message to Draco. Draco didn't seem remotely interested as he muttered something approvingly and then rolled over to the side so that he could lie half on Harry's chest and place kisses on the corner of his mouth.

Harry let a hand slide into Draco's hair and sighed. This had been a bloody good birthday present indeed. Maybe even the best.

~

"We're _neither_ watching Shrek, Finnigan, _nor_ any romance, Parkinson!" Draco interrupted the two squabblers gruffly.

It was late in the evening, the twelve had made themselves comfortable with ordered pizza in the small cinema room and had already watched two movies. The room radiated something cosy, the walls were covered with red velvet, the black leather armchairs they had pushed aside to have more space in front of the screen, which took up an entire wall. Slowly the first ones got tired and made themselves comfortable on the mattresses on the floor, the movies served rather as background sound, quiet conversations were held in small groups. But at the moment it was all about the choice of the next movie, Draco stood next to the DVD player, looked forbidden hot with his half ponytail and booty shorts and waited more or less patiently until the others agreed on a movie.

In the end, the choice fell on "The Shining", why one would want to watch a horror movie at this time of night was a mystery to Harry, but he used the time to observe Draco anyway. Draco started the movie, then climbed over Ginny and Luna and settled down in front of Harry, who leaned cross-legged against an overly large pillow. Draco threw Harry an overwhelming smile over his shoulder, he took it as an invitation to spread his legs, wrap his arms around Draco and pull him closer. Draco curled up in a ball between Harry’s legs, leaned against his chest and closed his eyes with relish.

"Why don't we watch a horse movie instead? That would be more in keeping with the motto, wouldn't it?" Ron asked while he shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth and stared at the screen with wide eyes.

Draco opened his eyes and groaned annoyed. "You could've made suggestions _before_ we started, Weasley!"

"I'm not a fan of horror films either! If not romance, then at least a tear-jerker," Pansy spoke up.

"Absolutely not," Draco protested, massaging the bridge of his nose. Quieter, more to himself, he added, "Keep a howling Parkinson away from me.” Harry smiled and ran his fingers through Draco's hair.

"Hey, I heard that!" complained Pansy in outrage.

"You were supposed to," Draco returned dryly and threw a pillow that was lying within reach in Pansy's direction. She squeaked and crawled for cover behind Theo.

"We can watch a stupid horse movie for all I care, as long as it’s a tear- _of-joy_ -jerker, I'm in," she defended herself.

Ron made an uncomprehending sound. "You cry with joy watching _horse_ movies? _Why?"_

"First of all, Pansy cries during every movie," Blaise explained. "And secondly, it’s as the old German saying goes: The greatest happiness on earth is sitting – “

"– between Potter's legs," Draco interrupted him carelessly. It took a full five seconds and complete silence from everyone present until he realised what he had just said and turned bright red. "Oh, _please_! I was referring to _myself! I’m_ the greatest happiness on earth! _Oh my god_ ….”

But Seamus and Dean already burst out laughing, the others joined no less enthusiastically. Harry bit his tongue hard so as not to laugh along. The containing apparently didn't work perfectly, Draco glared at him angrily with red cheeks. Harry grinned innocently and continued to pet Draco's hair.

"Thanks for the information, _Draco_. Actually, the greatest happiness on earth is sitting in the saddle of a horse, but you seem to know better," Blaise clarified amused. Another pillow flew, this time in Blaise's direction. Draco grumbled something about "sex-obsessed" and "childish", the others continued to laugh at him.

Having completely forgotten the horror movie and the actual subject, Harry couldn’t help but admit to himself that there was some truth to Draco's statement, more than the others made it look like with their laughter. His greatest happiness was indeed sitting between his legs and rolled those gleaming eyes at something Theo had said. Harry's pulse quickened as if on cue at the silent confession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry is failing NoSimpSeptember™ and ~killing~ Smutember™  
> What a king...


	6. Elysium and Tartarus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was _so_ close to calling this chapter "the final fuckdown", let's thank my self-control...  
> Oh and I strongly recommend to have the song "notice me" by ROLE MODEL ready (to get The Full Experience™), it'll play a role at the end of the chapter and also THE SONG IS SO GOOD, do yourself a favour and listen to it!

Harry closed his eyes, put his head back and breathed out relaxed. The cool water pelted down on him and gave his body the cooling and relaxation it really needed after two long riding lessons. They had fallen asleep far too late and got up far too early to be back at Weeping Willow Farmstead in time for breakfast, so primarily Harry was just tired. He let his hands run through his wet hair and carefully worked the knots out of his strands. He liked to take time for himself while showering, not much had this relaxing effect on him.

An impatient knock on the bathroom door made Harry open his eyes again. "Potter, there are other people in this room who need a cooldown, so if you would be so kind as to hurry up!"

Draco had seemingly returned to their room from his own riding lesson with Andvari and was, judging by his mood, no less sweaty than Harry had been five minutes earlier.

"Hmm, in a moment," Harry replied and closed his eyes again. He would certainly not let himself be rushed.

"I thought the only advantage of living with a man who doesn't care about personal hygiene is that the bathroom isn't occupied all the time," Draco complained, his voice sounding much friendlier when filtered through the wooden door and the water noise.

"Hey! I _care_ about my hygiene. No normal person is as sensitive to stubble as you are," Harry returned and remembered amusedly the discussion they had this morning after Harry had kissed Draco. He didn't seem to like the beard stubble too much.

Draco hissed something incomprehensible and Harry sighed relentingly. He took a look down at himself, if he thought about it properly, there was no argument for Draco having to wait any longer. "No need to get upset, just come in. The door is open."

Harry strained his ears and waited eagerly to see if Draco would actually follow the invitation. He wasn’t disappointed, the bathroom door flew open five seconds later and Draco strutted into the rather small bathroom dressed in full riding gear. The blond immediately began to take off his clothes, but not without taking a long look at Harry. His gaze lingered a little _too_ long to excuse it between Harry's legs.

Harry didn't think of complaining, instead, he glanced spellbound at Draco, who nimbly slipped his fingers under the hem of his shirt and pulled the fabric off his body. Harry couldn't see the picture in focus but he was able to picture it in more detail than anything else. The sight of the pale torso sent adrenaline rushing through Harry's body. A wave of lust followed it straight away as Draco took the jodhpurs off his legs. Oh, hell! Even when Draco didn’t take his time and offered Harry no performance, Harry felt enchanted. Bare skin always did its effect, as Harry could tell by looking down at himself.

Draco grinned with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he climbed into the shower cubicle completely naked next to Harry and briefly inspected his half-hard dick. Harry returned the smile and took a tiny step aside so Draco could stand under the water jet as well. But first, Draco pulled the hair tie out of his hair, which had held it together in a low ponytail. Draco was _indeed_ sweaty, blond strands of hair stuck to his cheek and forehead, sweat was dripping down his temples and neck and his scent was sweet but tangy. A sweaty Draco with loose hair falling softly over his shoulder didn't help Harry's precarious situation in the least, he only felt his heart pumping more blood southwards.

With a relieved sigh, Draco stepped under the jet of water and flinched back at once. "Fuck, you want to go into cold shock?" He hurriedly reached for the tap and set the temperature to _hot_. This time it was Harry who flinched. Draco just rolled his eyes before Harry could complain and set the temperature to tepid. "We're not barbarians, Potter. Taking cold showers is for people who can't afford the heating costs!"

Harry huffed and raised a hand tentatively into the water jet. "There are so many things problematic about that statement, I'll just pretend you didn't make it." The water temperature was bearable, so Harry stepped back under the jet of water, Draco took up most of the space anyway, and looked distinctly _too_ hot doing so. "Besides, you should seriously start calling me Harry."

Draco just made a refusing sound, closed his eyes and tilted his head back, just like Harry had done. But Harry wouldn’t have got a hard-on at the sight of himself, Draco had him having difficulty standing upright at all. The water poured over the pale skin, soaked the blond hair and made him shimmer silvery. Drops of water got caught in Draco's long lashes, ran down his cheeks like tears, moistened his lips in such a way that Harry could hardly resist the urge to kiss them.

"H-a-r-r-y. It's quite simple," Harry said instead, in a conspiratorial tone. He held on to his own hands so he wouldn't simply grab Draco unasked and press him against the tile wall.

Draco repeated the refusing sound, opening his eyes to reach for one of the billion (There were five, not a billion) bottles of shampoo and shower cream. While Draco pumped some of the soap on his hand, he eyed Harry out of the corner of his eye. The black-haired man could _feel_ his gaze, was forced to witness his cheeks getting hot and tried to save his face somehow.

" _Harry_ ," Draco murmured experimentally, closed his eyes again with a smug smile on his lips and began to slather his upper body with the soap. Harry bit his tongue so as not to moan out loud. God, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back much longer. When Draco then ran his fingers over his thighs, up, down, over his bottom, between his legs, Harry's brain stopped functioning.

Defenceless, Harry allowed his hand to squeeze his cock. His hips moved as if automatically into the loose fist, everything in Harry thanked him for the release. "Ex - Exactly. Harry," he panted, leaning against the tiled wall. Draco's eyes flew open and his gaze fell on Harry's hand wrapped around his erection.

It probably should have been embarrassing for him, but the thought didn’t even occur to him as Draco's eyes darkened instantly and he took a firm step towards Harry. His hand cupped Harry’s on his cock, he began to _guide_ Harry's fingers and elicited a surprised gasp from him. There was something predatory in Draco's gaze as he directed it at Harry's lips.

" _Harry_ ," Draco whispered, his warm breath brushing against Harry's skin. "Kiss me, _Harry_."

And Harry kissed Draco, shoved a hand to the back of the blond's neck, pushed himself off the wall to press his body against Draco's. The latter sighed as if he had waited too long for it, slid his free hand into Harry's hair and applied more pressure on Harry's fingers around his erection.

Harry moaned into the kiss, sucked on Draco's lower lip and greedily inhaled the scent of his skin. It wouldn't take him long, he was far too hot for the blond. As soon as Draco would close his long fingers around his erection, it could only be a matter of minutes...

"Wait," Harry uttered, interrupted the kiss and loosened the grip around his dick. Draco frowned, his cheeks were red and he bit his lip as soon as his gaze fell on Harry's pulsating erection. "I want to see you come."

Draco lifted his head in surprise to meet Harry’s gaze. Harry was sure that one could read the embarrassment on his face but didn't back down. Draco raised an eyebrow, then a little smile spread on his lips and he placed one hand on Harry's cheek. "How do you want me, _Ha_ –"

Harry interrupted the blond with another kiss on the lips, his name excited him too much and he was currently trying to cool his nerves, not heat them up. Draco completely lost himself in the kiss, sighed soulfully, wrapped both arms around Harry's waist, ran his fingertips up to his shoulder blades and down again to Harry's arse. With a gasp, Harry took a step back.

"Do we have condoms here?" he asked breathlessly.

Draco nodded, also gasping for breath. "Yes, there in the box next to –"

"Good. Turn around," Harry interrupted him and searched only half mentally present in the box Draco had just pointed to. He found what he was looking for, withheld a comment on the fact that they even kept condoms in the bathroom only for the sake of his desire and turned back to Draco.

The sight Harry was presented with was a pure delight. Draco leaned with his upper body against the tiled wall, his back was arched, his arse perfectly exposed for Harry. The water jet hit his spine and poured down his sides and between his legs. _Shit_ , was there a better view?

Knowing Draco was watching each of Harry's steps over his shoulder, Harry let one hand slowly slide over the soft muscle and rolled the condom over his own erection. He had all the time in the world and he would take Draco apart here and now, make him whimper, Harry bit his lip so as not to moan. Then he sank to his knees behind Draco and wished, once again, to be able to enjoy the sight clearly. But his imagination helped and maybe it wasn't bad that Harry didn't get to see the full picture. He might have given up instantly and surrendered to his own desires.

"Tell me when you want me to stop," Harry said calmly and at the same time began to caress the thighs in front of him. Draco gasped, his legs trembled with joyful anticipation, it brought a satisfied smile to Harry's face. Then he leaned forward and placed gentle kisses on the soft skin that connected Draco's thighs and arse. His fingertips still circled on the quivering legs.

Harry's head was reeling, it had consumed him for too long to lay his lips on that beautiful arse, now that the time had finally come, he was only worried that Draco wasn't ready for it. But Draco just sighed, arched his back even more and looked rather like he was getting impatient. Before Harry could change his mind, he tugged a little on Draco's hip so that he had to step out of the water jet and prop himself up against the tile wall with his arms. Harry placed a last kiss on Draco’s lower back, then he spread his sweet cheeks with his fingers and let his tongue slide along the crack.

Draco moaned, threw his head back, only to bury it against his elbow and moan again when Harry pressed his lips to the wrinkled skin of his hole. Harry's stomach burst in an explosion of butterflies, his fingers digging deeper into the soft skin and he inhaled the scent and taste of Draco. Vanilla, something tangy and even more vanilla.

Draco whimpered, spread his legs willingly for Harry and twitched under every trace of the tongue on his skin as if they were electric shocks. Harry blew gently on the hole, heard Draco wheezily curse and licked over the sensitive skin again. He could have gone on forever, his fingers massaging the cheeks, his tongue working as if it was completely independent of Harry's mind and Draco melting away under Harry's touch.

" _Harry, please_ ," Draco begged, but for what exactly remained unspoken. Harry's tongue continued to flick over the hole, teasing the skin around it. Harry let one hand travel between Draco's legs, massaged Draco's cock, which tipped the blond almost over the edge. His legs trembled, he moaned for more, he was so close to losing himself completely in Harry's touch.

Harry rubbed his fingertips quicker over Draco's hardness, pushed the tip of his tongue into his hole and grabbed Draco's arse more firmly. Harry's cheeks burned, his erection almost ached from the lack of attention, but he didn't stop, felt Draco lose himself more second by second.

When Harry once more thrust his tongue particularly deep in Draco, he moaned and pushed Harry away using his foot. "Fucking hell, if you don't put your dick inside me in the next ten seconds, I’ll –"

What he would have done then, Harry would never find out. He rose somewhat dazed while Draco was still speaking and let the finger that had just circled around Draco's cock slide into the wet tightness. At the same time, he gently massaged the wrinkled, saliva-wetted skin at Draco's back entrance with his thumb. Draco gasped for air, his eyes closed, his hair dangling tousled in his face. Unable to form a coherent thought, Harry positioned his erection, followed Draco's pleas and sank agonizingly slowly into Draco.

A deep growl escaped Harry's throat, his eyes closed, only the jet of water that hit his face when he put his head back kept him from losing himself completely. The feeling was overpowering, but Harry didn’t care. He bent over Draco, kissed his shoulder blades, reached into blond hair and moved his hips in a tortuously slow rhythm. They balanced together along the narrow ridge between heaven and hell, thirsting for more, but already full of frugality.

Harry's fingers in Draco's hair clenched and he gripped harder. He pulled gently enough to keep it pleasurable for Draco, but strong enough to force him to throw his head back. Draco whimpered, pleaded, gave Harry the feeling of complete power and powerlessness at the same time. It didn’t take long for Harry to come. When Draco's body tensed, he gasped for breath and Harry's name left his lips, Harry finished.

The orgasm hit him like cold water, pervaded his entire body with an intensity that almost brought him to his knees. The only thing that saved him was Draco's body, which he clung to desperately. Breathing heavily, Harry gave himself a few seconds to gather himself. Then he withdrew out of Draco, spun the blond, who was still struggling with the after-waves of his own orgasm, around and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Draco let himself sag against Harry's chest, placed lazy kisses on his neck and held onto Harry's upper arms.

"It was definitely worth the wait to have the chance to shower with you,” Harry muttered, soothingly brushed with one hand over Draco's hair and held his waist with the other.

Draco snorted softly at Harry's crook of the neck. "I hereby promise you that one day I will make you whimper at least as much."

Harry couldn't help but laugh tiredly, then he pulled Draco under the lukewarm stream of water, watched the water dripping from Draco's chin for a few seconds and leaned in to kiss him again. Draco let himself be carried away for a few seconds, then he took a small step back.

"Feykir's prescribed rest period is officially over. I have to leave for training.”

Harry pursed his lips, which made Draco smile in an instant. "Is your father also –"

"You really do always choose the most inappropriate moments to talk about my father, Potter," Draco interrupted him and eyed him amused. "But, yes, he will be there for the training. That means we'll stay out of each other's way and your lips won't come near my body until he's gone."

Harry frowned and opened his mouth to say something but Draco already put a finger on Harry's lips.

"Not now. Later, all right?"

"But later we'll do the night hike," Harry mumbled against Draco's finger.

Draco removed his finger from Harry's mouth and tilted his head. "Convenient, isn't it? I can't think of anything more romantic than discussing my family problems at moonlight while we wait to be frightened off by some hired lunatics."

Harry sighed relentingly, Draco gave him an encouraging smile and then left the shower cubicle on shaky legs, where he dripped all over the floor before he bothered to use a towel.

~

The afternoon was nice even without Draco, not as nice as it could have been _with_ Draco, but nice enough. First Harry let himself be persuaded to play basketball with Seamus, Dean and Ginny, later he played a round of chess against Ron, which he, of course, lost miserably. Then he watched Hermione, who tried to beat Ron (she didn't lose miserably, but she didn't win either) and then Harry sat with Luna and Neville in the meadow at the back entrance of the guesthouse and played their favourite songs on the guitar.

Draco didn't attend dinner, so Pansy and Theo joined them at their table. After Theo had been silent for a while, as he usually was, unless he had something to say that was worth saying, he approached Harry about his scooter. And so it turned out that Theo was no less enthusiastic about the vehicles than Harry. Harry instantly found the best person to talk to that night in Theo and everyone else tried to ignore them as much as they could because really _anything_ was more interesting than scooters.

When Draco returned from his training (exhausted but with a happy twinkle in his eyes, after all, he currently was _not_ training with Lockhart), the sun was already setting. When the last rays of sunshine disappeared on the horizon, all twelve gathered under the weeping willow in the courtyard and were briefed by Mrs Longbottom. The concept of the planned night hike was simple, they were to set out together and, in the spirit of the horror game "Slenderman", search for sheets of paper with letters on them. The letters then resulted in a word which should help them to find a "treasure". Seamus asked why he should search for a precious treasure when Dean was standing right next to him. Dean nudged him in the side, but his ears were red from embarrassment. Harry and Ron exchanged a look and the rest of the group rolled their eyes.

As soon as Mrs Longbottom disappeared back into the house the group decided to split up into grouplets to speed up the letter-hunt. They decided to form groups of four, partly because they didn’t want to separate the teams of two and therefore an odd number within a group wasn’t possible, and partly because it would have been fun to just split into the teams of two but no one trusted Harry and Draco to keep their hands off each other. Draco just grumbled an "Oh, _please_ " and Harry scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Hermione and Ron were to go with them and keep an eye on them so that they could concentrate on the little scavenger hunt.

Then the pocket lamps were distributed and they set off. From the experiences of the past years, it was to be expected that sooner or later they would be scared by strangers, Mrs Longbottom apparently had connections, but for now, the night looked very peaceful. The sky was clear, a red stripe was still faintly visible in the west, the stars and the slowly waning moon shone brightly. Following the gravel road, the four went in the direction of the nearby forest. In the open field, the pocket lamps were still unnecessary, the darkness had something soothing about it.

Hermione and Ron walked a bit ahead of Harry and Draco and talked quietly. Lost in thought, Harry reached for Draco's hand, interlaced their fingers and spent his time, once again, watching Draco's profile. The pointy features, the nobly curved nose, the delicate lip contours, the high cheekbones, the storm grey eyes and the hair tied back at the neck looked particularly enchanting in the moonlight.

Draco's gaze lay on the starry sky, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration, he seemed to be looking for something. And he found what he was looking for. His eyes suddenly began to glow, his face cleared and he pointed his index finger at something above them. "Do you see that square of stars there? And the row of stars between the Big and Little Dipper?

Harry looked up, followed the direction Draco pointed and actually found the stars. "The constellation of Hera's dragon. Right next to the constellation of Hercules," he noted and was suddenly grateful that Dudley had developed an obsessive phase with planetariums at the age of nine and that Harry had been dragged into each one.

"You know the myth." Draco seemed eager not to sound too impressed. Harry smiled knowingly at him and Draco rolled his eyes. "I was named after the constellation. My mother chose that name for me," he explained, still looking up at the stars.

Harry only had eyes for Draco's captivated expression. "The constellation has no particularly bright stars, but it never sets," Harry remembered. "It’s always there, no matter when you look at the stars. Your mother has good taste."

Draco chuckled and gave Harry an amused look. "Is that a compliment, or are you telling me I'm not particularly bright?"

"Just an observation," Harry began, gently returning the gaze. "People who love you will always think of you when they look at the stars."

Draco kept his mouth closed, looked up into the sky again, stroked the back of Harry's hand with his thumb in absentia and suddenly seemed very lost in thought. With the moonlight shimmering in his hair, Draco was the perfect reminiscent of a forbidden fruit. All Harry was allowed to do was look at him, but he wanted so much more. Nothing and everything stood between them. Harry just had to hold out his hand.

And then it struck him like lightning. Oh _God_. Him? _Him!_

How was he so blind? How had he not seen, no rather _realised_ , that it was him? It was him. He could at least become him. He could be Harry's fall and resurrection. His remorse and hope. He had the potential for the perfect contradiction. He had the potential to be Harry's future.

Harry's heart was racing, he was feeling dizzy, because how would one process such a realisation? _Don’t rush things_ , his mind warned him. His heart was long lost. Truly, it was his decision, he only had to hold out his hand and give them a chance. That was all it took to turn them into a "we".

Harry exhaled audibly, closed his eyes and did what he knew best. He put the emotions into a jam jar, closed it tightly and stored it safely, with all the other memories and emotions that exposed him to others. The time wasn't right yet, there was still too much at stake. He would return to them, to those feelings for Draco. Just not _now_.

"If I tell you something about myself you've wanted to know since we met, can we talk about your father?" Harry asked calmly, careful not to startle Draco.

The blond turned his head to Harry and frowned. "What have I wanted to know about you since we met?"

Harry smiled, now it was he who was watching the trees fly ever closer. "My scar," he began, raising his hand to his forehead to touch it briefly. He had noticed Draco's looks, he knew them from all the others who had given him the same look. He didn't resent anyone's curiosity, he himself probably wouldn't have done any better. "It happened in a park. I wasn’t a year old and my parents didn't pay attention for two minutes. Sirius told me that they felt terribly guilty and they hardly let me out of their sight for a minute afterwards. I guess it must have been a bit traumatic for young parents to have to take their child to the hospital with a bleeding forehead."

Harry smirked, then cleared his throat. "Anyway, they were overly cautious. So overly cautious that I had a special child safety car seat that I always had to take with me when I rode in other people's cars. Once, it was autumn, we hiked all the way from home to Sirius to visit him. At Sirius’ we carved pumpkins, my parents were quite proud. There are lots of pictures from that day somewhere..." For a moment Harry thought about the pictures, Sirius had shown them to him a few years ago on Halloween. He had never seen them again after that. Harry kept talking.

"It had started to rain and we couldn't walk home anymore. My parents wanted to borrow Sirius's car, but they didn't have my child seat with them. They were so overly cautious, they would have never put me in the car without the child seat." Harry's breath faltered and his voice broke. The grip on his hand became firmer, giving Harry a sense of comfort. He looked at the stars.

"They left without me to get the child seat from home. That was the last time I saw them."

Harry stopped, Draco did the same in an instant. His attention focused on Harry, he stepped close in front of him, not letting go of his hand. Harry studied the pale face, could read sympathy in the grey eyes. He searched for something _more_ in the impenetrable grey, something else besides grief and compassion. And there it was. In perfect contradiction, Harry found a glimmer of hope glistening in the cloudy grey.

"It saved your life," Draco nearly whispered and brushed Harry's forehead with his thumb.

It was nothing that anyone else would have said in response to that story. Still, it didn't surprise Harry that Draco said it. He knew that the scar hadn't saved him, but rather represented the death sentence of his parents, but Draco's view of things was so different. So full of hope. With a contradictory optimism that Harry didn't quite understand. It confronted his bitter pain and gave him a new perspective. Yes, perhaps that scar had saved him because it stood for nothing but the solicitude of his parents.

Harry's gaze fell on Draco's lips, so soft, so beautiful, so perfect. He looked back into Draco's eyes, which looked at him waiting. Draco was looking for something. He was looking for the one thing Harry needed right now. He sought the wrong thing. He shouldn't have been looking for the Something. He should have been looking for the One. But neither of them knew that at that very moment.

"You – You may kiss me if you want to."

And Harry wanted to, pressed his lips against Draco's and just let himself float in the nothingness for a few moments. Not a thought haunted his mind, only Draco mattered. And when he broke away from the kiss, and they turned to walk, Harry felt alive again.

"Let's return radically to other subjects," Harry began in a firm voice when they entered the grove a few long minutes later and turned on the pocket lamps. Hermione and Ron walked more slowly now, but still a few metres ahead of them.

"You can't be serious," grumbled Draco, who, in the distinctly more eerie darkness, huddled closer to Harry and flinched as something rustled in the undergrowth near them. " _Fuck_! Why did we watch that horror movie again?”

Harry laughed with amusement. "Because the alternatives were shitty. But back to your father –"

"Potter," Draco interrupted him and gave him a warning look. "I assure you, I'm old enough to handle him myself. It won’t be _simple_ , it isn't _wise_ to challenge confrontation with him, but he will have to come to terms with all my life decisions."

Harry frowned and looked at Draco. It was too dark to make out anything specific. The pocket lamps weren't bright enough and Draco was staring into the dark undergrowth with wide eyes anyway. "Are you saying you wouldn't hide it from him? A relationship, I mean."

Draco sighed, squeezed Harry's hand gently and walked a little faster, probably to catch up with the others, to avoid the subject. "No, I wouldn't. Not if it's something serious."

Oh. Something unpleasantly sharp pierced through Harry's chest. Draco didn't tell his father about Harry. He knew what that meant.

"Was Viktor something serious?" Harry asked without hesitation. Draco almost flinched at the mention of the name, then threw Harry an irritated look and then a worried look straight ahead at Ron and Hermione. But they seemed unconcerned and unaware of them.

"No, my father never knew about him," Draco whispered then, eyeing Harry's face for a moment. "I wouldn't have taken you for the jealous type."

Harry snorted. On the one hand, because he could _definitely_ be the jealous type, though not without reason, and on the other hand because he felt a little satisfaction at the thought that Viktor hadn't been too serious after all. "I’m not jealous! At most I'm curious."

Draco chuckled amusedly, then he wrapped both hands around Harry's hand, leaned over to his ear and gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "Your jealousy is blinding you, Potter. You’re focusing on the wrong thing." He stopped and pointed his pocket lamp into the thicket. Something white and square was attached to a tree there. Draco grinned smugly at Harry, but when he noticed Harry's furrowed brow, he sighed. "I told you that Krum is merely the past. That doesn't mean that everything that mattered in his time also lies in the past."

_What?_ Harry opened his mouth to investigate when Hermione's voice sounded. "What's taking so long?"

While Draco called the two to them, Harry tried to sort out his thoughts. Something inside of him needed an answer to all this. He wanted no games, no riddles, no secrets, only Draco and clarity.

That night, he was denied an opportunity to find out more about Draco's past and the consequences of that. They found three more sheets of paper with letters written on them, fled the woods bursting with laughter as a deer crossed their path and returned to the farm. The other grouplets were equally as successful and they even found the treasure chest, with an unhealthy amount of sweets in it. Draco was more enthusiastic about it than most, the glow in his eyes gave Harry more than he needed to give Draco more time. Harry would soon learn the truth anyway.

~

More precisely, the truth came to light the next day. The group had spent the morning preparing for the upcoming Pony-Olympics on Saturday, by now it was early afternoon and someone had come up with the glorious idea of playing cops and robbers. The general enthusiasm for the idea was a mystery to Harry, but he would never have played the spoilsport. But that also meant that he was currently hiding behind the stable wall with Draco, constantly casting worried looks at the sky. It was covered with dark clouds, the rain wouldn’t be long in coming.

In addition, Harry was currently in a discussion with Draco about whether the blond should get a mobile phone or not. Draco insisted that he didn't need it, but Harry could think of a few reasons why owning one would be wiser.

"Just imagine going for a ride alone and you fall off your pony. You can't contact anyone without a phone," Harry said quietly, lurking around the corner to keep an eye on the courtyard. Seamus triumphantly dragged a cussing Ginny out from behind a bush and towards the guesthouse.

"If I fall off my pony, I won't contact anyone, but get back on and keep riding," Draco opposed. He leaned against the stable wall behind Harry, his arms crossed and watched the sky in boredom.

"What if you broke your leg when you fell?" Harry asked, trying to figure out exactly where Seamus was dragging Ginny.

"Then I'll get back on anyway."

Harry snorted and gave Draco a brief look of disbelief. "What if you've broken _both_ your legs?"

"If the fall is so severe that I break both my legs from it, then a mobile phone will most likely not survive either," Draco replied, lowering his head to look at his fingernails. His high ponytail bounced as he moved and a few strands came loose from it.

"Those are pretty weak counter-arguments. You also could get lost and not find your way back without a phone," Harry tried again. Seamus and Ginny had disappeared around a corner and a drop of water fell on the tip of his nose.

"I don't get lost, and if I did, it'd be in an area where there'd be no phone service anyway." Draco seemed very convinced of his opinion, he looked up into the sky again. "I know where we can go. Come on."

And with that, he pushed himself off the stable wall and hurried in great strides towards the barn that was located not far from them. Harry rushed to follow Draco, strictly speaking, was the barn outside the agreed-upon playing field, but the drops of water that were now frequently hitting him nipped his protest in the bud.

Not a second too soon, Harry crossed the threshold of the barn door, a roll of thunder echoed and the clouds opened their floodgates. The rain poured down loud and mercilessly, another thunder rumbled. Draco didn't wait for Harry, walked past the machines parked here and climbed up a rotten ladder at the edge of the barn. Harry followed Draco, at the top he looked around in surprise. A hayloft. 

Nothing but bales of hay covered every inch of the floor, Draco crawled on all fours further inside, where the roof was highest and they could even stand upright. There Draco sat cross-legged on the soft hay and waved Harry closer. The pattering rain and the rolling thunder made any verbal communication immensely difficult.

Harry spoke anyway while following Draco's prompt. "All right, if your own safety isn’t reason enough, what if you want to keep in touch with someone you like?"

Draco pulled Harry closer so that they sat opposite each other and their knees touched. "Then I'll meet this someone in person."

Harry frowned and watched Draco's relaxed expression as he absent-mindedly reached for Draco's hand. "What if this someone lives too far away to meet them spontaneously?”

Draco tilted his head and furrowed his brows. "Someone like you?”

"Someone like me."

An amused smile spread over Draco’s mouth. "Are you suggesting that you're someone that I like?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It was an _example_. I –”

"Are you _absolutely_ sure it was just an example and not merely wishful thinking?" Draco interrupted him, his eyes twinkled mischievously. Such arrogance was _beyond_ comprehension.

"Very funny," Harry grumbled, suddenly taking a keen interest in the hay that lay beneath his feet.

Draco remained silent for a moment, quite obviously amused by Harry, then leaned forward a little, resting his forehead against Harry's and nudged the tip of his nose with his own. Harry reflexively inhaled Draco's scent and closed his eyes with relish. A tingling sensation ran through his body, followed by heat that took over the surface of his skin.

"For that case, it might be worth considering," Draco whispered, so softly that Harry almost didn't hear it over the pattering rain. But he heard it, opened his eyes, and now it was his turn to grin. Draco placed a little kiss on the corner of Harry's mouth, obviously trying hard to cover up his embarrassment. Harry's grin only broadened.

"That means," Harry began content and pushed Draco onto his back in the hay. "That you like me."

Draco snorted annoyed, but his red cheeks betrayed him. "Let’s please consider the fact that you are the one who’s currently rubbing _your_ cock against _my_ leg and behaving like a dog in heat."

"Oh, sorry," Harry murmured half-heartedly, propped his elbows on the hay next to Draco's head and stopped the subconscious movement of his hips against Draco's leg. Instead, his attention fell on rosy soft lips and he sighed longingly while he let Draco's hair glide through his fingers.

Draco raised one eyebrow and returned Harry's gaze. "That wasn’t meant to be a _complaint_. Although you might at least kiss me before you get started without me."

Harry bit back a comment, instead, he followed the plea and gently pressed his lips against Draco's. Softness, Draco decided, was more than out of place, so he quickly shoved his hands to the back of Harry's neck, pulled him closer, bit his chapped lower lip and elicited all sorts of delightful sounds from Harry.

Lust burst through his body like a wave, consumed him, made him sweat. Draco _liked_ him. _Draco_ liked him. Draco liked _him_. It was almost too much. The confession overshadowed all other feelings, made Harry forget who and where he was. His senses were in overdrive. Harry smelled the scent of vanilla and hay, he heard the thunderous roar and the quick breath of Draco at his mouth, he felt silky hair under his fingertips, Draco's warm body writhing under him and Draco's lips eagerly sucking at Harry's tongue.

Somewhere a thunder growled, causing the earth to tremble and Harry with it. Draco braced his hands against Harry's chest, made him get up and, as soon as he sat up, began to strip off his clothes. Harry looked at him with big eyes, his trousers becoming hopelessly tighter and tighter. Draco's fingers nimbly moved under the hem of his shirt and skillfully unbuckled his belt. His cheeks and ears flushed, saliva moistened his lips and in his gaze lay pure impatience.

It took Harry a moment to tear himself away from the sight of the naked skin gradually coming to light, but then he started to take off his own shirt. They didn't have forever, at some point their absence would be noticed, and then people would start looking for them.

Draco's gaze lay spellbound on Harry's hands while he pulled his trousers off his legs. The air on his naked skin felt strange. It felt almost forbidden to kneel completely naked on the hay, only the sound of the rain granted them a certain peacefulness. Harry licked his lips, his eyes fixed on Draco. He was busy looking for something in his trousers, which he had carelessly thrown beside him. His face cleared up as soon as he found it and he tossed Harry the condom.

"You'd better hurry." Draco's voice was dark and husky and the hottest thing Harry had ever heard. His fingers found Draco's waist and he moved closer to the blond. He let one finger run up Draco's waist, across his chest, up to his collarbone and neck. Under the tip of his finger, Harry felt the blond’s racing heartbeat and he had to bite his tongue to keep from moaning. Draco closed his eyes, fumbling blindly for Harry's erection. " _Harry_..."

"Wait, let me –" Harry broke off, pinned Draco down again and leaned over the blond who had opened his eyes in surprise. Oh, this beautiful sight alone was enough to melt all the synapses in his brain. 

Harry pushed one knee between Draco's legs, spreading them, caught the soft lips for a small kiss, buried one hand on the back of Draco's head, the other gently brushed Draco's cheek. Draco's hands held onto Harry's arms at first, but as soon as their tongues started to play the familiar game, Draco tried to draw Harry's body closer.

Breathing heavily, Harry pulled away, grabbed Draco's wrists and held them above his head, in a loose grip. Draco's eyes widened, his cheeks flushed. Harry placed a gentle kiss on Draco's forehead and studied him closely for a moment before he started to speak. "Okay?"

Draco's breath faltered and his cheeks turned darker. "God _yes_ , just touch me already!"

A smile touched the corner of Harry's mouth. He continued to hold Draco's wrists tightly over his head, his other hand he led to Draco's mouth. Draco opened his lips for Harry's fingers, didn't break eye contact, while he started sucking on them with a little too much devotion. Harry's cheeks burned, his erection twitched, but he just exhaled calmly and moved his wet fingers between Draco's legs.

He didn't resist the glossy lips for a second longer, caught them with his own while he carefully massaged Draco's cock. Draco's gasping was hot in Harry's mouth, he felt Draco resisting Harry's grip on his hands. Harry whispered words of reassurance against Draco’s lips, reaping a hot moan.

Watching Draco's face carefully, Harry let his fingers travel lower and sank into the wet tightness. Draco's eyes rolled back, his mouth fell open, a halting breath on his lips. The sight left Harry speechless, made his blood boil and banished any logic from his mind. Harry moved his fingers, felt his way in, continued to massage Draco's cock with his thumb and watched with clouded senses even the smallest reaction in Draco's face.

His lips trembled, just like his hands that held on to each other. His body jerked towards Harry, he bent his legs, lifted his hips so Harry could thrust into him more easily. It left Harry dizzy, Draco wanted him so much, lost himself so much under Harry's touch and showed himself more vulnerable than ever.

Harry kissed Draco, something else would have driven him mad. He kept his rhythm steady, felt how he was gratefully received by Draco's warmth and couldn’t help but smile. Draco's breath became heavier, he desperately moved towards Harry's hand as if desire had completely taken over his body.

"Harry, please, I don’t want to –" The rest of the sentence disappeared in a choked breath and Draco's body tensed. It felt as if time stopped, even the crackling of the rain Harry couldn't hear for that moment. All he saw was Draco, eyes closed in bliss, a fine crease between his eyebrows and the hint of a smile on his slightly parted lips.

Then Draco slumped back on the hay, tried to control his breath, keeping his eyes closed at first. Harry let go of Draco's wrists, placed gentle kisses on Draco's eyelids and waited for the blond to master his senses again. It took exactly two minutes until Draco opened his eyes and glared at Harry. That's right, _glared_.

"Don't you dare think that was all.”

Harry blinked in surprise. "What?"

"You heard me. And now –“ Draco pushed Harry off and sat up at the same time. "I want to be on top. The hay nearly _impaled_ me."

Harry stared at Draco’s face with wide eyes, the information slowly seeping through his lust clouded mind. Draco sped up the process by forcefully pressing Harry onto his back, sat on his thighs, ripped open the condom that Harry had simply dropped near them and rolled the silicone on Harry's pulsating cock. Harry finally understood what was happening and he gasped at the touch. Draco hadn't been wrong, the hay was digging uncomfortably into his back and legs, but Draco's fingers on his erection made him forget everything.

Draco smiled contentedly at his work, gave Harry a breathtaking smile, then lifted himself off Harry's thighs and crawled to Harry's eye level. His ponytail tickled Harry's cheek as Draco leaned down to him for a kiss that was far too short. Harry's hands found Draco's waist, stroked down to his thighs. Draco sighed at the touch, then reached between his legs for Harry's hard erection and brought it into position. One last glance found Harry, whose pulse took on unhealthy patterns. Holy shit, Draco was about to _ride_ him.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," Draco breathed, the rain almost swallowed the words. But Harry wouldn't have been able to reply anyway, because Draco was just lowering himself on his cock and Harry gasped for air.

Draco was tight and wet and _insatiable_. His hips moved slowly and sluggish at first, Harry couldn't help but close his eyes and just enjoy the feeling. There was something tormenting about it and yet it was exactly what Harry needed. Harry let his fingers travel along Draco's thighs, teased the naked skin with his fingertips and coaxed a variation of lustful sounds from the blond.

"Draco, please –" it slipped from Harry's lips without him wanting to speak. He opened his eyes and regretted ever closing them. Draco looked incredible, he was leaning back slightly, his hands resting on Harry's thighs, his legs bent beside Harry's body, Harry could _see_ the muscle movement. Hips circling, Draco moved tirelessly on Harry, his head tilted back, his eyes closed. The blond ponytail bobbed with every movement, Harry couldn't resist the reflex and thrust.

Draco's eyelids flew open, he gasped in surprise and dug his fingers painfully into Harry's legs. Harry moaned and blindly reached for Draco's waist. He thrust into Draco once more, it was so obvious he needed more. A dangerous, knowing twinkle flared up in Draco's eyes, it left Harry's cheeks hot and his mouth dry.

Then Draco took his hands off Harry's legs, straightened up, corrected the position of his bent legs as best he could and then set to a steadily increasing rhythm. The tingling in his body caused Harry to curl his toes and tense up. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, look at Draco, absorb the sight, savour it to the fullest.

The blond moaned uninhibitedly, surrendering to the safety of being drowned out by the sounds of the raging thunderstorm. His head dropped back, his hair fell out of his face, drops of sweat glistened on his temples. Harry reached down to Draco's hips, one hand gripping soft cheeks, the other moving between Draco's legs. Draco's hand embraced Harry's, his breath went fast, he was getting tired and Harry wouldn't push him to exhaustion.

In Harry's groin area it began to boil dangerously, a feeling was building up. Harry flicked his thumb faster over Draco's cock, his mouth stood open, his breath reminded more of a gasp. And then Draco suddenly leaned forward, sealing Harry's lips with his own. Harry moaned blissfully, his hip jerked all by itself towards Draco, the bubble inside him burst and a wave of bliss washed through him.

Draco moaned, dropped his head into Harry's crook of the neck and came a second time while riding out Harry's orgasm with tired movement. Harry wrapped his arms around the pale body, held it close to his chest, the moment resembled pure perfection.

A few minutes passed before their breath calmed down, when Draco tried to get up, Harry pulled him back to his chest. He wanted to lie here only a few more minutes, bare to the naked skin, with Draco at his side. Draco didn't object, wrapped one leg around Harry, lay against his chest, his head against Harry's shoulder. Harry, lost in thought, ran his fingers through blond hair, Draco drew circles on Harry's chest with the tip of his finger and they both listened to the roar of thunder and the howling wind.

"I think I got a cramp in my thigh," Draco whispered suddenly, almost reproachfully. Harry laughed, felt for Draco's thigh with his free hand and pulled the hollow of his knee closer to him so he could massage him unhindered. Draco sighed contentedly and pressed his nose against Harry's neck. "You smell of sex," he noted mumbling, shoving his hand into dark hair and imitated Harry's massage movement there.

"Mmm, you too," Harry muttered, he could have simply fallen asleep here and now. Although, slowly but surely, it was getting chilly. Harry looked at Draco's relaxed face, this was an opportunity, wasn't it? "Draco?"

"Mmm?"

"Yesterday, you said I was focusing on the wrong thing. I thought about it, but I don't get it. If Viktor's not the problem, then what is?" Because Draco didn't budge and kept quiet, Harry went on. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to pressure you to talk about something you don't want to talk about. It's just..." Harry was desperate for the truth; he was sure it would bridge the last remaining gap between the two young men. "If he did something to you, then –"

"No," Draco interrupted him, he closed his eyes in agony, then he sighed. "If I tell you what happened, can you promise not to look at me differently? That you’ll continue to look at me as if I’m –" Draco faltered. Harry could only guess how he looked at Draco. But he was pretty sure that "idolisingly" came close to reality.

"I don't want you to think of me as my past. I know I did those things, but I don't want you to think I'm still capable of them." Draco sounded genuinely concerned but also filled with regret. Harry frowned, knowing Draco now, it was something that caused him more trouble than it should. He couldn't imagine seeing Draco in any other light.

And although Harry would have loved to ask if Draco didn't think he was overreacting at least a little, he knew that Draco, to himself, wasn’t overreacting. And if he was so ashamed of something that had happened in his past, Harry would be the last person who didn't take him seriously. It was Draco's feelings, and he would consider them, of course.

"I promise. And if it helps, you could tell me like it didn’t really happen", Harry thought aloud.

Draco raised his head to look at Harry and frowned. "Like a fairy tale?"

Harry nodded slowly as he studied Draco's face in detail. Draco bit his lower lip and tilted his head, thoughtfully, but then nodded and lay on Harry's chest again. He cleared his throat uneasily, then swallowed and began.

"Once upon a time – All right, I can't take this seriously. I'll just tell you... normally." Harry bit his tongue to keep from laughing, the beginning had already gone rather poorly.

"I met Krum about three years ago. We were in the same team and we ran into each other a few times at shows. He was quite impressive, his riding was exceptionally great for his age. We got... into conversation, you might call it sort of a friendship if you're not too strict with the definition. First and foremost, we just tried to beat the other one, that's all there was to it. Until he spent the summer two years ago on the farmstead."

Draco paused, uncertain as to exactly how he should proceed. Harry ran his fingers through his hair reassuringly and waited. It was all he could do anyway.

"Even then, Krum was a very… outgoing kind of bloke. By outgoing, I mean that he hit on anyone and everything that would let him. It worked on a few people here, most of them turned him down but found it quite funny. And those that didn't reject him, they had a good time with him. Among the latter was Granger."

Once again, Draco faltered. Harry had known that Hermione was somehow involved; at the very latest since the outburst at breakfast it had been clear. Harry could only speculate as to how she fit into the picture.

"Granger and I were… good friends then. When I think back on it, I can't think of a single good reason why she was friends with me in the first place. I – I guess I was a little spoiled. Ignorant? Arrogant?"

Harry snorted and tried to cover it up with a hasty cough. Draco was still arrogant, but maybe he didn't need to know that now.

“At least it was more than now. And I was awfully, and I mean _truly_ awfully, jealous. When you're used to getting everything you want, then... then you don't realise that some things are just out of reach. I thought Granger had everything then. She was a talented rider, her parents would never have pushed her to compete and still supported her unconditionally, and then she even got the hot guy. You can imagine what happened next.”

If he was honest, Harry couldn't imagine it. He was still processing all the information and imagining an _even more_ supercilious Draco who was friends with Hermione. It really didn't make sense, although Blaise seemed like a sensible young man and had been friends with Draco for years. Perhaps the softcore had already shone through then.

"Things were getting serious between Granger and Krum, so I figured I could claim ownership. After all, Krum was my friend first, not Granger's. It was too easy. Krum didn’t waste an opportunity anyway and I was _remarkably_ beautiful even at seventeen, Potter!"

Harry wasn't sure what to think. That Draco had always been a beauty, he was happy to believe, but the rest was much more likely to bother him. Had Hermione and Viktor been in a relationship? Had Viktor cheated on Hermione with Draco? And Draco had only done it because he had been jealous of Hermione?

"It was like a competition for me. I didn't even like Krum that much, but I couldn't stand that she had everything, while I... She suddenly started spending more time with him than with me. And all he could talk about was her while we were together. I got Krum's attention with my body, but Granger's was more difficult. We were always good at competing, so I fell into the pattern. It was nothing more than a game for me to get Krum. "

Harry stopped the movements of his hand and struggled to keep his breath unconcerned. He had known that Draco _liked_ attention, but the extent of it was frightening indeed. Slowly, but surely, he began to understand why Draco hid his past so carefully.

"The worst thing is that she... participated. She actually liked Krum or... I don't know, she liked him more than I did. She was so disappointed in me, and even though I could _see_ it, I told myself I was in the right. She played the games, pretended it didn't mean much to her, used Krum to make me jealous because I did the same thing. It was –"

Draco exhaled audibly and closed his eyes in agony.

"It still was my fault. I should never have interfered. We both made mistakes because _I_ made a huge mistake. And then there was the bet."

Harry felt overwhelmed and unable to even think about anything. He didn't understand why Hermione hadn't reacted differently or why nobody had intervened. He wondered if Krum had been aware of his position, as the bone of contention between two friends.

"The bet was originally a joke by Krum. I overheard him joking with Granger about taking my virginity. For him, it was all just an even bigger game, he never made any promises to anyone, always made it unmistakably clear that he didn't want to commit to anything. Granger got angry, she insisted that I – that I wouldn't do it. I didn't know at the time, but today I know that despite the games, despite the disappointment, she was convinced that I would choose our friendship over the game. That I would know when enough was enough."

Harry's heart was beating faster, he sensed that the story didn't have a happy ending and was tempted to interrupt Draco. The blond spoke as if he was being chased, as if he had no choice but to tell the story. He was suffering the pain of memory.

"I didn't know. I thought she – she was just challenging me again. I was angry that she was betting on anything like this in the first place. I was hurt and naive and stupid. So stupid. If I hadn't known about the bet, I wouldn't have let Krum – “

Draco buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, clenched his fist and took a deep breath before continuing.

"I wanted her to lose the bet, I wanted to hurt her as much as she had hurt me with that fucking bet. So I slept with him. I regretted it instantly, wanted to undo it. I didn't know how, so I went and talked to her. I wanted to apologise, not brag... She was so incredibly angry, she never let me finish..."

In Harry's head, the puzzle pieces moved around disorderly. A bet. A _sex bet_. Fuck.

"If I'd had feelings for him, it wouldn't have made my actions any better, but at least it would have justified them. But I didn't and she knew that. She held everything against me. Every mistake, every decision, every silly grin, every lie. She held my entire personality against me. It was like a slap in the face and at the same time, I could see myself clearly for the first time. Not in my own world, where I was always right, but in reality. In the eyes of my friends."

Harry had to make an effort to listen at all. He tried to calm down. This thing with Ron, that wasn't a bet. It was just a stupid joke. Draco would never know. It wasn't like it was a real bet at all.

"She told me to ask myself why I was doing all this, so I left. I was so... disgusted with myself, with my choices. I – I let my body be used. For an obnoxious bet. And what did it get me? It cost me a friendship and my world view of the time."

Harry's head was spinning. Torn between the emotions, he tried to focus on Draco's words, to process them, to not make a judgment, to not think of himself, to not think about the bet.

"I guess I should be grateful to her for confronting me with my personality. It made me question everything. Question myself. But first I had to get away."

Draco swallowed audibly before continuing.

"I went to visit my mother's family in France. I couldn’t tell anyone. My parents were worried sick. After a week I wrote to Zabini and he told my parents where I was. I was in France for another two months, mother wanted to come after me, but I couldn't see anyone from here. When I came back everything was the same, only I was different. It was the strangest time of my life."

Harry took a deep breath. No matter what he had imagined, this wasn’t it. He never expected it to be about something else all this time. All those startled looks when someone mentioned Viktor had been about Hermione. Rather the fragile friendship he had with Hermione.

"Granger never again mentioned the subject on her own initiative. She acted as if nothing had ever happened and I followed through. As if it was a mature decision. The anger, the remorse, the disappointment, we worked it all out, but in a completely passive way. It took months for the tension to wear off. Sometimes I still feel it today and then I forget who I am and only know who I was."

The breakfast. Harry remembered the outburst vividly. The mention of Viktor, coupled with the pressure of his father, must have been the last straw. Suddenly, Blaise's reaction made much more sense, as did the secrecy of the others. They had all known about the feud, it hadn't surprised anyone.

"Nevertheless, I think it's over. We both did things we regret. I think in a way we both had to and wanted to forgive each other to move on."

Harry placed his lips on Draco's forehead and closed his eyes to remind himself to stay calm. "Now you just have to forgive yourself."

Draco sighed, raised his head and Harry opened his eyes to look at him. So much remorse, so much guilt was reflecting in the clear grey. "You promised me you wouldn't look at me differently."

Harry tried to smile, it was a lame attempt. It wasn't Draco he saw differently, it was his own thoughts that drove him mad. It wasn't Draco's fault, it was his own. Suddenly it was very cold in the hayloft and Harry would have liked nothing better than clothes on his body.

"A promise is a promise," Harry murmured and gently kissed Draco's forehead again. "Thanks for telling me."

Draco nestled his head back against Harry's crook of the neck, a quiet smile on his lips. Harry's heart was beating faster. He had to tell him about the bet with Ron. Of course, he had to.

"Draco?"

The young man made a questioning sound and when Harry didn't answer, he raised his head again to return Harry’s gaze. Perhaps he didn't need to know after all. It had only been one of Ron's silly jokes. Harry hadn't once thought about it in all this time. It would only upset Draco unnecessarily.

"Yah?" Draco asked, growing impatient.

Harry cleared his throat in haste. "Um, did I ever tell you that you have really beautiful eyes?" He wanted to smack himself.

Draco cocked an eyebrow in surprise, then a mischievous smile blossomed on his face. His gaze drifted down Harry's body and when he looked up again, he grinned. "And you have a really beautiful cock."

Harry blinked perplexed, heat rushed to his cheeks. "I'm not sure that's something people say when they're trying to be romantic."

Draco nodded vigorously. "Yes, it is. You wouldn't know."

"Hey!" Harry complained, but Draco's faint chuckle erased his outrage.

"We better get back. My training starts soon," Draco remarked. As if the weather was agreeing with Draco's argument, the rain suddenly stopped.

"And I have to let the others tease me. We seriously need to start sneaking away without attracting attention," Harry sighed. Draco laughed softly, pressed a kiss on Harry's collarbone, rose and crawled over to his clothes.

Harry closed his eyes for a brief moment before he let reality sweep over him. He urgently needed to think, Draco was too important not to think this through. With this decision in mind, Harry also started to put on his clothes.

~

The thing about guilt is more complicated than you might imagine. Sometimes guilt is easy to understand. It's easy to blame someone for your mistakes. It's easy to feel guilty when you see the heart of a loved one broken over something you ruined. It's easy to admit guilt when you possess a hint of self-reflection and the tendencies of a moral compass.

Harry blamed himself for many things in his life, he wasn't the type to point fingers at others, he was much more likely to look for the mistake in himself and quietly hoped he wouldn't find it. But sometimes the guilt is not as clear-cut as one might hope. Sometimes it's about finding out if you owe something to someone. The truth. Do you owe people the truth? Wasn't that one of the reasons Draco told Harry about his past? Because he felt he owed Harry the truth.

When Harry thought about it, he had to admit he often acted out of a sense of guilt. When he let people get close to him, he felt obliged to open a few of his jam jars for them, to give them a glimpse into his heart. Because that was what one owed his friends. The revelation of oneself. Wasn't it?

Harry hadn't told Draco about his scar because he felt he owed it to him. He'd done it because he wanted Draco to be able to see everything he was. So he knew who Harry truly was. Because he wanted Draco to like him for everything he was and everything that was part of him. Perhaps Draco had told his story for the same reasons.

Maybe this wasn't about guilt. Maybe it was about much more than that. Maybe, call it wishful thinking or hope in a twisted, optimistic way, it was about the revelation of two souls, about the collision of two destinies, and maybe it was just about two people getting to know each other. And them wanting to be liked. As simple and yet as complex as a single cell in an organism.

Harry wished he could see it. He wanted so badly that the feeling of guilt would go away. He wanted to stop questioning what the right thing to do was. But he felt as if he'd betrayed Draco. The bet, more likely _the motivation for Ron to make a move on Hermione_ , had occurred to Harry again and now it was clouding his mind with dark thoughts. He had betrayed Draco's trust, he had known the idea hadn't been a good one.

A joke. It had only been a joke.

And Harry had never given it much thought, it was like it never happened. But Draco had a past, and even if he hadn't already had a bad experience with a bet about his body, it was still degrading. Harry felt sick at the thought that Draco could even assume that Harry had staged all those moments between them just for a cheap bet, nothing more than a ridiculous competition.

He felt so guilty, as if he had made a mistake he couldn't correct because it was too late. He had long since agreed, accepted the competition and he had _won_ it. Something tightened in Harry's chest. The realisation just made it more sickening. Draco wasn't just a means to win, he was so much more and Harry wanted to tell him. He had to tell him everything, but he didn't know how.

So Harry said nothing, tried to distract himself, not to think about the guilt haunting him like an evil spirit. He tried to forget that the horseback riding holidays were over in no less than three days, that he was running out of time. It was hard for him, even though the others provided a great distraction. Still, he silently wondered if it was important for him to feel the guilt at that moment. Whether it wasn't more important to show remorse, repent and come clean with himself and Draco. But he didn't dare. There was too much at stake.

The worst part was that Draco was relieved. So noticeably _free_ that he had told Harry about his past. It filled Harry with both joy and pain. He was glad that he could make Draco feel like he didn't have to hide, that his mistakes and his past didn't matter, only who he was now. And at the same time, it was as if an invisible wall had risen up in Harry's heart that kept him with all his might from thinking about what it meant for them. Because Harry was lying. He was hiding something that weighed heavily on his shoulders, and there is no trust that can be built on lies.

The hours passed, the next day flashed past Harry, everything was so terribly ordinary, the harmony and idyll of the farmstead simply tangible. It almost drove Harry out of his mind, his inner restlessness made him tremble. He pushed back the feeling, somehow, it would never have fitted into a jam jar. But Draco was so beautiful, his smile so radiant, Harry only felt more guilty that he was enjoying the moments and not completely lost in bitterness.

The next evening, he sat by the campfire, the sun was setting in the west in the most beautiful colours, he plucked unknown melodies on his guitar and watched the young blond man talking to Luna a bit away from him. He laughed with her, so sincere, it tore Harry's heart to pieces.

"Lost in daydreams?"

Harry raised his head, smiled at Blaise who sat down to his left, a paper cup in his hands. Silently, Harry wondered how obvious his fascination with Draco was to everyone else. Not that it bothered him that others could read him. It was a strange feeling, almost as if they knew more about him than he knew about himself, but it didn't really worry him.

"So, what are you thinking about?" Blaise asked, looking at the fire and lifting the cup to his lips.

Harry continued plucking his guitar and was truly tempted to ask Blaise for help. He was Draco's best friend. He knew him like no one else, his advice was all Harry needed right now. So Harry cleared his throat uneasily and looked intently at his fingers as he spoke. "There's this thing. I... know something and I am keeping this thing from another person, even though I know that the truth would be... better. I'm just afraid that the truth might hurt the other person and I don't know if it wouldn't be better for both of us to keep quiet."

Blaise remained thoughtfully silent, Harry didn't blame him. He wasn't even sure if what he had said made any sense. But it described his current situation surprisingly well. He carried around this secret that couldn't be expressed well. And rationally he knew that secrets weren't good, but he didn't want to risk hurting Draco unnecessarily.

"I don't think I can help you with that. Just, if you choose to keep your silence, make sure Draco _never_ knows the truth." Blaise spoke calmly, looked at Harry with a serious expression.

Blaise knew this was about Draco. Of course, he knew. Harry sighed, his fingers stopped and the melody faded into silence, only the crackling of the campfire and the conversations of the others filled the air. It was Harry's decision. He had to decide whether or not he wanted to hurt Draco. Trust and truth against guilt and vulnerability, Harry realised how much he detested decisions.

He cleared his throat again, looked into the flames and hid behind the protective wall in his heart. "Did you ever wonder why he calls you Zabini? You've been friends forever, but when he talks about you, it sounds like you're strangers."

Blaise laughed, ignored the silent bitterness in Harry's voice and looked at him amused. "Draco calls me Blaise whenever we're alone. He calls you Harry when it's just the two of you, doesn't he?"

Harry frowned in surprise. He'd somehow assumed that Draco only did that because he knew it caused something in Harry to boil over. That was _useful_ for sex. He had never considered that it had anything to do with them being alone together.

"I think he does it to make us feel special when we're alone with him. It's a bit odd, I'll give you that, but Draco has some strange quirks about him. At some point, I just stopped questioning them."

"Hmm," Harry returned with little eloquence, then suddenly he smiled. "Did you know he speaks French to make himself seem more extravagant? A while ago he said pommes de terre purée instead of mashed potatoes, I almost –"

"It's purée de pommes de terre, _thank you very much_ ," a voice, all too familiar, interrupted him. With a reproachful look on his face, Draco settled on Harry's right side. "Besides, you're undermining my French roots with your slanderous remarks."

Harry raised his eyebrows and smiled challengingly. "I am, huh? Where else are those roots going to benefit you unless you want to show off?"

Draco's grin was at least as challenging. "Do you know what a French kiss is?"

"That sounds like my cue," Blaise murmured next to them and got up. Harry gave him an apologetic look but immediately turned back to Draco, as soon as Blaise had disappeared.

"I do indeed know what a French kiss is. Are you saying you're more talented in that department than people _without_ French roots?"

Draco tilted his head and frowned thoughtfully. His hair fell over his shoulder. He had tied it in a high ponytail again. Harry secretly suspected that Draco _knew_ what effect the hairstyle had on Harry and therefore wore it more often.

"Possibly. Though I haven't had the honour of kissing myself yet and so I'm not nearly as good a judge of that as you are," Draco said, his voice almost purring.

Harry's gaze fell on the seductive red lips. The only reason that stopped him from jumping at the blond here and now was the presence of his friends, which couldn't have been more teasing since they had returned from the hayloft to the guesthouse. It was as if the others had mastered the art of mind-reading and knew right away what they had been up to.

Draco sighed, then nodded in the direction of Harry's hands, which still lay motionless on his guitar. "Will you play something for me?"

Harry watched Draco with fascination for a few seconds. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what Draco wanted to hear, but his choice of song had long since been made. So he nodded slowly, brought his fingers into position and then raised his head to look at Draco.

_"Talk dirty, you got your hand in my jeans_  
_You're perfect, and everything in between"_

The words left Harry's lips as if they were made to be sung by him at this very moment. The melody flowed through his body, gathered in his fingertips and was brought to life by the soft sounds of the guitar. A shiver went down Harry's spine.

_"Let's dance when we're not supposed to be_  
_Can't stand when you're not close to me"_

Draco's eyes widened, the soft pink shimmer on his cheeks darkened. He looked at Harry, it was as though he couldn't look away. And Harry looked back, blocking out everything and everyone, he played and sang out of pure instinct, his attention solely focused only on Draco.

_"Damn, can't believe you notice me, notice me"_

Lost in Draco's eyes, Harry let himself go. Nothing made him feel better than the clear storm grey that flared up yellow and red in the firelight. He could read them, he could sense and understand Draco's feelings easily and without difficulty in his eyes. He saw Draco's blindness, his realisation, his embarrassment, his composure, his fear and hope. The perfect contradiction in itself. Not just black, not just white, but pure grey.

_"And I won't let this go, never fell this hard_  
_Always had bad luck, never got this far"_

Draco's feelings were suddenly as clear as never before. In Draco, there was never just one side of the coin, he was more. And to Harry, he was even more. He wished he could name the feeling. It was easy to break them down into their individual pieces, but the big picture lay before him as if in a fog. He wanted what was best for Draco. He wanted to be the best for Draco.

_"Damn, can't believe you notice me, notice me"_

One last time, Harry let his fingers move across the strings, a smile grew on his face and then the melody vanished. Harry's heart pounded fiercely, this felt much bigger than a simple song. And Draco didn't seem to feel any different. There was something yearning in his eyes, something pleading, it made Harry's skin tingle.

"And?" Harry studied every little reaction on Draco's face. "Satisfied?"

Draco awoke from his frozen state, chuckled and rolled his eyes at the same time. There was something insane about the picture, it reminded Harry of the feeling of their first kiss. " _Yes!_ Very much so."

And Draco leaned in, not bothered by the presence of the others and kissed Harry. Gently and lovingly, not in any way impatient. Just grateful and pleased. Harry smiled into the kiss, raised one hand to Draco's cheek and let it rest there. The feeling was intoxicating. There was something overwhelming about opening up and being accepted.

Draco broke away from the kiss, but before he could lean back, he was already pulled into an embrace against Harry's chest. A surprised noise escaped Draco's lips, but he gladly returned the hug without hesitation. The guitar half wedged between their bodies made it harder, but not impossible, to get close. Harry sighed, simply enjoyed the feeling of Draco's warm breath against his ear, the blond hair tickling his cheek and the arms wrapped around his body. Hugs were surprisingly satisfying if he was honest.

"You know," Draco began softly by his ear suddenly. "If you really want me to, I'll call you Harry in front of the others as well. All it takes is one question."

Draco drew back slowly from the embrace, his cheeks flushed redder than before and he gave Harry an almost insecure look. Then he stood up, ruffled a surprised Harry through his dark hair and promised to be right back. With an open mouth, Harry looked after him.

One question. All it took was one question. Meaning. Draco's words had so much more meaning. And Harry was sometimes naive and not self-reflective enough, but he _knew_ the meaning behind Draco's words. It wasn't a question of being called Harry. It was the question of a future for them. Harry's heart could hardly stand the excitement. It meant Draco _wanted_ him. And Harry wanted Draco too, probably more than he admitted to himself. They wanted each other and they wanted it beyond the summer. And all Harry had to do now was to _ask_ Draco.

He put the guitar aside, looked at Draco, tried to decide when he wanted to ask the question. Whether he wanted to ask it at all was beyond question. Only the "when" and "how" were relevant now. It became crystal clear to Harry as he watched Draco letting Ron pour a drink into a paper cup and smiling amusedly about something the redhead said to him. Harry didn't even attempt to read their lips, it was too dark for that. Also, the others were talking way too loudly to be able to overhear anything.

Draco tugged at his ponytail, glanced at Harry and smiled slightly when he noticed he was being watched. Ron followed Draco's gaze, grinned knowingly at Harry, said something to Draco and regained his full attention. Harry frowned. Ron talked a lot, didn't pause, seemed to be very amused about something, then he ended and looked at Draco expectantly. But instead of replying, Draco looked in Harry's direction.

That was the moment when Harry saw Draco's heart breaking.

The grey eyes wide-open, the mouth slightly agape, the skin chalky pale, Draco instinctively took a few steps back. No, God, _no!_

It only took Harry a second to realise what must have happened, then he jumped to his feet and headed for them. Draco continued to slowly retreat, his gaze locked on Harry, ignoring what Ron said to him.

_It was a stupid bet, a joke, please, please don't look at me like that._

"Draco, wait!" Harry's breath was racing, his heart was pounding and he could hear the blood in his ears. He was _terrified_. He could almost see Draco slipping away, like fine sand running between his fingers.

"What was the prize?" Draco asked, his voice endlessly cool, his body tense to the breaking point. "Tell me what your prize was."

Harry's body grew heavy. He stopped in front of Draco. He couldn't even reach out to him. He was completely paralysed. "Please. That was –"

In Draco's eyes, the anger flared and he turned energetically to Ron who stood lost next to the two of them and didn't know what to do with himself. " _What_ was his prize, Weasley?"

Harry was about to tell Ron not to say anything, to let him sort it out himself. He'd done too much damage already, but his voice wouldn't listen and Ron was already answering in a confused tone. "It was a concert, but –“

"A concert?" Draco's rage subsided rapidly. Making way for lostness and breaking Harry's heart along with it. "You fucked me for a _shitty_ concert?" He almost sounded doubtful, as if he didn't want to believe it.

Harry opened his mouth, so many things were on the tip of his tongue he _had_ to tell Draco. He wanted to explain himself, he wanted to tell Draco that it meant nothing, that Harry's feelings were real, but no sound left his mouth. He was petrified, too overwhelmed by the fact that he had just seen Draco's heart _shatter_ , that it was his fault. Remorse and guilt ruled his limbs and paralysed his mind.

Something was shimmering in the corners of Draco's eyes. Tears. No. _No, please, no tears._

Harry didn't have to bear the sight for long, Draco already turned on his heel and fled towards the guesthouse. Someone called his name, Pansy. Harry watched Blaise leap up and rush after Draco, Pansy following on his heels. Only Theo stayed behind and looked almost expectantly in Harry's direction.

But he was still chained to the ground. His breath didn't want to work properly, something heavy lay on his lungs. His chest hurt unbearably, the image of a breaking Draco flashed so vividly before his inner eye. It was all his fault, his _bloody_ fault.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Ron, who spoke soothing words to Harry. Harry couldn't hear them, but his numbness steadily decreased. He wanted to run after Draco immediately, but what was he supposed to say? What was there _left_ to say to Draco that would undo all this?

"Fuck," Harry heard himself say. And then again. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_."


	7. Destiny at First Glance

"What the bloody fuck is wrong with you?" Ginny's voice was shrill, like a clean cut to the eardrum. Her freckled face was covered with red blotches, her hands clenched in fists and the campfire flickered dangerously in her eyes. "A _shag bet_? If I tell Mum, you’ll be doomed, Ron!"

"It was a _joke!_ We were never really gonna go through with it. I just wanted to –“

" _God_ , Ron, you're so _stupid!_ A joke? Seriously? Do you know how degrading that is?" Ginny interrupted him, she gestured wildly with her hands in the air. "And you, Harry! I can't believe you agreed to this! You –"

"I _know_ , Ginny! Don't you think I _know?"_

Harry still felt terribly empty, somewhere he had the feeling that he and Ron deserved Ginny's lecture. But all he really wanted right now was to go after Draco. When he had finally moved to rush off a few minutes ago, Theo had rigorously stopped him, and then Ginny had approached him and asked for an explanation. It was a complete disaster.

"You both owe Draco _and_ Hermione a massive apology! This is just not okay." Ginny folded her arms across her chest and glared at them. 

"I already know." Harry spun around in surprise, only to see Hermione standing diagonally behind Ron, apparently listening in. "Ron told me about it a while ago.”

Harry stared at his best friend in disbelief. "You told her?" he asked, perplexed.

"Of course I told her." Ron shrugged, clearly intimidated by his sister. "I kind of thought you'd at least mentioned it to Goldilocks at some point, otherwise I never would have told him. As for Hermione and me – it seemed weird _not_ to tell her. Especially since we –" Ron faltered and Harry figured the rest.

Oh, God, but that also meant he was the only arsehole. Though he doubted that Draco would have forgiven him even if he'd told him sooner. He might not have opened up to Harry in the first place if he hadn't allowed the trust to grow. Harry felt so stupid, so unbelievably stupid, that he hadn't thought about how problematic this bet could become.

"You should let Harry talk to Draco,” Hermione said in a calm voice to Theo as she approached.

"Absolutely not. Not until we all calm down!" Theo crossed his arms and looked as if he would throw himself at Harry if necessary if he tried to get past him.

Hermione sighed and touched Harry's arm. "When you talk to him... He's had some bad experiences, it's –"

"I know." That almost made it worse. That he knew about it and still hadn't said anything.

Hermione's eyes widened, she looked almost worried. "I don't know what he told you, Harry, but –"

"It doesn't matter, okay? I have bigger problems right now."

Theo was a very immediate problem which was blocking his way. His bleeding heart was another problem, but nothing compared to Draco. Draco, who was somewhere thinking about how Harry had only used him. And that was as far from the truth as nothing else.

Theo didn't let Harry out of his sight that night and Harry was forced to sit at the campfire again and pretend that everything was fine. As if his world wasn't being shattered by an earthquake. As if he wasn't about to ruin everything with his silence. Perhaps it was wise to wait. Perhaps an angry Draco wasn't the best moment to explain himself. Perhaps Theo was right.

So why did it feel like Harry was making all the wrong moves? He'd already _made_ all the wrong moves, maybe that was it. Still, he wanted Draco to at least know that this bet had nothing to do with the thing between them. He wanted Draco to know his feelings were serious. That he was serious about _Draco_.

How could it have been otherwise? Watching Draco's heart break just made him realise how much the blond meant to him. He didn't want to lose him, he _couldn't_ lose him. He was plagued by this dark feeling that it might already be too late. That Draco wouldn't be able to even listen. Not to mention the fact that Harry had no idea what he wanted to say to him. The mere thought of having to find the right words caused his throat to close up.

But he _had_ to push away his insecurity and guilt. Two days and he would return to London if Draco wouldn't listen to him by then, Harry was sure they would never see each other again. The thought sent a nauseous feeling through Harry. He pulled his knees to his body and wrapped his arms around them. He felt so lost.

"Can I sit down?" Ron didn't wait for an answer and sat down beside Harry at the campfire. He fidgeted anxiously, kneading his own fingers and glanced at Harry repeatedly. Harry ignored it, his mouth was too dry to speak anyway.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what I was thinking when I told him. My point was actually that I wanted to tell him that he... you know... means a lot to you. I think he missed that part."

Harry huffed and placed his chin on his knee. "Probably."

Ron eyed him closely, then sighed. "I'm gonna tell him that this was my idea. The bet, I mean. That you never actually wanted to do it. Mate, I practically forced you into it!"

Harry closed his eyes. It burnt under his eyelids, but he took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. He had no right to play the victim now. "Believe me, I've tried to blame you for all of this. But _I_ agreed and _I_ chose not to say anything and still went further with him." Harry swallowed, his throat hurt from speaking. "Fuck, it feels like I used him."

"But you didn't, did you?" Ron turned to Harry. "You didn't do it for the prize. You like him. You've liked him since you first saw him."

Harry swallowed again. Of course, he liked Draco. Far too much, if he was honest. And it had only grown since they met. Draco had carefully nurtured these feelings and Harry had watched them blossom with fascination. He opened his eyes and buried his face in his hands. It didn't help that he knew that. Draco was the one who needed to know that if he was hoping for another chance.

"I wanted to ask him," Harry began quietly. "I wanted to ask him if he wants to be in a relationship with me. Even though I knew I was keeping something from him. I just... I don't know how to explain any of this."

A hand was placed on Harry's shoulder and remained there for some time, while Harry only heard the crackle of the fire. The conversations of the others remained as if veiled in fog. Ron's hand felt like sweet torture. It helped calm him down and at the same time, Harry wanted to have the same effect on Draco. He wanted to talk to him so badly, but without knowing what he wanted to say, any attempt was worthless. Draco's friends wouldn't let him anyway.

"Harry, I know you," Ron said calmly, rubbing his hand soothingly over Harry's shoulder. "You just have to tell him how you feel. Be honest with him."

"I want to, okay? I just..."

Harry didn't know if he could. He was scared. What if Draco wouldn't forgive him? What if he wouldn't even listen to him? He didn't know how to express his feelings when the odds were so high that Draco would only step on them. He would have the chance, maybe even the right, to hurt Harry as much as he'd been hurt. And Harry had always been so careful not to show his innermost self. He had those bloody jam jars for a reason.

"Let it happen," Ron muttered. Harry raised his head to look at his best friend and frowned. "No one likes to be vulnerable, Harry. But if you want to save this thing between you two, you have no choice but to be honest."

Harry wanted Draco to know that Harry was serious about his feelings. But he didn't want the risk. He didn't want to open himself up just to be rejected. Still, he knew Ron wasn't wrong. Clearing the air was probably the last chance he had to set things right. Why did this have to be so complicated? Why couldn't Draco just _know?_ Harry feared he would never find the right words.

He wasn't good at opening himself up. Not when it came to all or nothing. Not when he knew he would lose Draco if he chose the wrong words. It was supposed to make it easier. The prospect of a future without Draco should make the decision easier, and the decision itself was easy. Of course, Harry would have done anything to win Draco back, it was just so damn _hard_ to find the right words when the pressure weighed on him. He couldn't afford another misstep, otherwise, that would be the end of it. Then Harry had destroyed it all once more.

The hand on Harry's shoulder disappeared and Ron started talking again. "You can't expect him to give you everything if you're not willing to do the same for him. It's the least you can do, Harry."

The least and everything Harry had.

He nodded slowly. He had made his decision. In fact, he had made it the moment he had first laid eyes on Draco. A little fight for Draco shouldn't frighten him. If he had enough faith in what was between them, then everything else would be easy.

 _There is one rule, Potter,_ Draco had told him. _Finish what you started._

It didn't matter now what would happen to Harry. All that mattered was showing Draco that Harry wanted him. That he was willing to give everything he had to Draco to save what was blossoming between them. What Draco would do with the knowledge and whether he'd forgive Harry wasn't important now. Harry would have never forgiven himself for not at least trying.

~

"Draco?"

Harry knocked tentatively on the bathroom door of their room. It was already well into the night, the others were already sound asleep. It had taken Harry a good hour to build up the courage to knock on the door. He knew Draco had locked himself in the bathroom, Pansy had given him a death stare and had left Harry's room with Blaise when he had appeared. It was surprising enough that Draco was here at all. Now only the thin wood of a door separated them.

"Draco, I know you're in there."

Harry couldn't hide the uncertainty in his voice. He was just glad Draco couldn't see his trembling hand on the doorknob.

"Please open the door. Let me explain."

Nothing moved. One could have thought Draco had fallen asleep, but Harry didn't believe it. Draco heard him, he just chose not to react. Harry's chest tightened. The nausea returned. Not even breathing was easy for him.

"I –"

Harry broke off. He couldn't do it. Not if he wasn't able to see Draco before him. It was hard enough as it was, but he needed _Draco_ to confess. He needed to see him, and if he wasn't allowed to do that, he needed some other sign of life from Draco. Even an insult would have worked wonders, but Draco remained silent and Harry could only guess what was going on inside him.

"I'll wait for you here."

Harry sat down against the wall that separated him and Draco, closed his eyes in agony and wished that feelings were as simple as music. But feelings weren't just freedom and pure intuition, they were complex and needed careful consideration. With Draco, Harry had felt free. He hadn't had to think, had only felt; it had been like the wind in his hair. There was nothing Harry wanted back more.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered more than he spoke.

Under his eyelids it prickled, Harry didn't even fight the feeling back. He allowed a single tear to run down his cheek. He would wait for Draco no matter how long it took. And then he would finally open up, it couldn't be that fucking hard!

~

When Harry opened his eyes, bright rays of sunlight shone directly into his face. Squinting and somewhat confused as to why he was lying on the cool wooden floor and not in his comfortable bed, Harry straightened up. His gaze fell on the open bathroom door and memories rushed over him like a waterfall.

Fuck. Draco was angry and Harry had come to apologise. But now Draco had obviously disappeared. A bit wobbly on his feet, Harry leapt up, took a look into the empty bathroom and groaned about his own stupidity of just falling asleep. The rest of the room was empty, as well. Slowly Harry's heart woke up and it started beating painfully faster. Draco could be anywhere.

With presence of mind, Harry hurried to the large window that gave him a view of most of the courtyard. It was apparently quite early, not a soul was roaming about the courtyard. Only Hagrid was chasing some chickens from under the weeping willow. Perhaps Draco was still in the house. Perhaps he'd sneaked off to Pansy's or Blaise'.

And that's when Harry spotted it. Blond hair, pale skin, a raven black coat. Harry had to press his face against the glass to see more. There was no doubt, Draco wanted to leave the courtyard. On Feykir.

Adrenaline revived Harry's limbs, he sped out of the room door, along the hallway, down the stairs and out of the guesthouse at record speed. Hagrid noticed him, waved at him cheerfully, but Harry ignored him and ran towards the stables. Breathing heavily and with a racing heart, he only just saw Draco disappearing on the horizon on Feykir's back.

Without a thought in his mind, Harry rushed into the stables, grabbed Hetja's snaffle while he was still racing, arrived at her stall and greeted the mare by putting the snaffle on her. He lacked the time for a friendly greeting. Hetja got nervous at once, apparently adapting to Harry's emotions. Harry led her out of the stable and to one of the nearby benches. He climbed on it and then on Hetja's back. Had he had more time, he would have chosen a saddle, but it was denied him.

So Harry grabbed the reins, smashed his calves against Hetja's flank and followed the path Draco had taken. It was the same path they had taken when they had ridden to the lake. Harry spurred Hetja on, the mare fell into a gentle tölt that allowed Harry to move forward quickly and not simply slide off her back at the same time.

A bark made Harry flinch. He reached into the reins and stopped the mare. Looking back to the farmstead, Harry could see a white German shepherd dog galloping along the path. Hedwig. Harry was tempted to send his dog back to the farmstead, but the chance that she wouldn't listen to him was too high. So he waited a few seconds until Hedwig had caught up with him, admonished her to stay with him and spurred Hetja on again.

Chases are much easier when you have your target in sight. But Draco was already over the hills and Harry could only hope that he was following the right path. It was an easy route, just a wide road leading into the forest, but soon smaller paths separated from the big road. Harry stubbornly stuck to his route, a tiny glimmer of hope within him made him believe that he knew where Draco was headed. If he was wrong, this was all for nothing.

Harry spurred Hetja on, felt the wind in his hair and tried not to think. He thought anyway. He thought of the fact that the Pony-Olympics were being held today and that they were in the process of missing them. It was supposed to be the grand finale, everyone, especially Draco, had been looking forward to it. But it had also meant the end of the two weeks, the highlight before the farewell. Harry had looked forward to it with sweet bitterness.

He thought about how Draco had already run away once before. He had told him in the hay. Draco seemed to be relying on escape, it gave him security. Because when the world around you collapses in on itself, it becomes more and more appealing to turn your back on the world and run away. Sirius had done it once. After Harry's parents had died. But he had come back, had never turned his back on his responsibilities again. Harry had never even thought of not forgiving him for it.

He thought about the fact that he was going back to London. Alone. He had been aware of this before the disaster, but he had pushed the thought so far into the distance that he had almost forgotten it. It was terrifying because even if Draco would consider forgiving Harry, it didn't mean that he would do it before Harry was forced to leave.

He thought about how he was still afraid to say the wrong thing. He didn't want to make things worse for both of them, although at this point that was probably no longer possible. It helped that his adrenaline kicked in. It made Harry reckless, but it also made him brave, and he needed that right now. His intuition and his gut feeling slowly but surely gained the upper hand, which would help him.

He thought of how Draco awakened this adrenaline in him. And so much more. He raised this optimistic hope for a future. He made him feel certain that there was a chance for a happy ending. He made Harry feel the need to open up. And that was new. Completely new. But exciting and good.

Actually, chases weren't so difficult after all. Harry had a clear target in mind, even if he couldn't see it at the moment. Draco was goal enough. The hope in Harry grew. If he knew Draco, if he had come to know the real Draco in the last few weeks, then he knew where Draco was headed.

Harry turned into a small path, called for Hedwig and let Hetja walk the last few meters on long reins. The forest thinned out, the sun's rays and the high deciduous trees reflected in the lake water. The crickets chirped loudly, the birds sang unknown melodies, it smelled of grass and dew. A raven-black pony neighed and Harry felt nothing but relief.

He hurriedly slipped off Hetja's back and tied her to a low-hanging branch of a beech tree. He called for Hedwig again, crossed the glade and headed for Feykir who was anxiously prancing on the spot. He was also tied to a tree, but there was no sign of Draco. Feykir flared his nostrils and threw his head up when Harry approached.

Harry slowed down, spoke reassuring words as he made his way to the stallion at a sluggish pace. Feykir stomped his hooves on the ground but sniffed the back of Harry's hand and even let him pet him on his neck. Harry continued to look around the glade, if Draco wasn't here, then in the thicket. He hoped fervently that he still remembered the path from that day at the lake.

The spot at the edge of the forest where Draco and he had disappeared into the forest the last time was quickly found. Hedwig, who had followed him well-behaved up to now, whimpered and turned restlessly in circles as Harry was about to fight his way through some thorns. Oh great, soon all animals would go crazy. Harry called for her calmly, but the dog only saw Harry's voice as a request to run away in the opposite direction. Harry stared after her with wide eyes, but Hedwig didn't turn around anymore.

Fuck. He couldn't worry about her now. She would come back. Hedwig always came back to him. Maybe she was chasing after a rabbit, Harry pushed back the thought of hunters, whistled once experimentally, but when nothing happened, he groaned annoyed and rubbed his flat hand over his forehead. This day couldn't get any shittier.

Almost defiantly, Harry left the glade and made his way into the undergrowth. He recalled vaguely Draco's hand in his that had dragged him along. He tried hard to remember the path in his mind, it didn't work well, but his intuition took over and led Harry deeper into the forest. It smelled of moss and bark, the chirping of crickets faded away. Something peaceful enveloped him.

And then Harry saw Draco.

His heart skipped a beat and he stopped like his feet had been rooted to the ground. Draco was sitting at the root of the tree that Harry had leaned on when they had last been here. He had pulled his legs up to his body and wrapped his arms around them. His chin was resting on one knee, his gaze fixed on Harry. He had noticed him immediately.

In the grey of his eyes lay something restless, yet he didn't seem surprised to see Harry. As if he was expecting him. Nervously, Harry wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans and took a step closer, a branch cracked under his shoe, Harry almost flinched at the sound. Draco continued to look at Harry unmoved.

He was beautiful. The most beautiful sight Harry could imagine at that moment. It was as if someone had snatched the rose-coloured glasses of the previous days from his eyes and he suddenly realised that reality was no less breathtaking. Blond wisps of hair fell on Draco's face, the loose hair covered his shoulders. Draco's face appeared even paler, he had dark circles under his eyes, his lower lip was chapped. Harry's heart bled even more.

Nervousness dominated Harry's steps but he kept walking until he dropped to his knees before Draco. He kept his distance, he wasn't foolish enough to impose his closeness now. He could hear his own breath rattle, too loud for the silence of the forest. Draco clenched his jaw, wrapped his arms more firmly around his legs, but didn't retreat. Harry almost sighed with relief.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing that left Harry's lips.

Draco furrowed his brows, squeezed his lips shut and made a visible effort not to lose his temper. His resistance didn't last long. "Fuck you."

The words struck Harry like a slap in the face, but he ignored the pain. Instead, he sat cross-legged in front of Draco and studied him carefully. This wasn't supposed to be easy and that was okay. An apology wasn't enough.

"Does anyone know you're here?" Draco asked, his gaze still fixed on Harry with icy hardness.

"No, not exactly."

Draco nodded rigidly. "So I could kill you now and no one would ever find your body?"

"Probably."

Draco huffed. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and began massaging his temples. "You have no idea how angry I am with you."

"I think I know," Harry began, silently admonishing his heart to remain calm. "You have every right to be angry with me. I want to explain it to you anyway. Please, let me explain."

Draco glared at Harry. "What are you trying to explain? Why you took a shag bet? Why you _used_ me?"

"I didn't use you."

The twinkle in Draco's eyes turned dangerous. "No? Then why didn't you tell me about it? Not even after I told you –" Draco's breath faltered and he closed his eyes again in agony.

"I know I should have told you. I – I just didn't know how. I didn't want to hurt you." Harry had to force himself to keep looking at Draco, to not lower his gaze. The flush of shame rose inexorably on his face.

Draco returned the look. He seemed so insanely disappointed. "You've already hurt me by agreeing to the bet. It's far too late to not want to hurt me."

Harry lowered his head, he felt sick. He had known that. Of course, he had. Hearing it only made it more real and reality hurt like salt in a fresh wound. Now came the hard part. How would he convince Draco that Harry was worth forgiving? That he was telling the truth?

"I – Fuck!" Draco's breath faltered, he stumbled over his words as if he wanted to avoid them. "I really tried to change and I _did_ change! I just thought... I thought the world would be better to me. I thought I – _Shit_ , why did you do that? Why did you ruin it?"

And suddenly Harry saw it more clearly than ever before. It wasn't about Draco forgiving him. It was more about Draco knowing the truth so he could come clean with himself.

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated lamely, looking back at Draco with regret.

Draco's eyes were red and something glistened in the corner of his eye, he sobbed dryly, leaned against the tree trunk behind him and closed his eyes. "Why couldn't it be real? You said I was different. Why did you have to lie?"

"Draco," Harry reached out a hand towards the blond, but let it drop again and rubbed his forehead in stress. "That wasn't a lie. I wasn't using you, that bloody bet meant nothing."

Draco's eyelids fluttered open and he fixed Harry with a cold gaze. "Why should I believe you? You've done nothing but lie so far.”

"I know I should've told you about the bet, but it wasn't all a lie. Would I be here if it were different?" Harry's voice sounded more pleading than intended, but seeing Draco so disappointed made it hard for Harry to even breathe.

"I – I don't know," Draco whispered, his gaze focused on his fingers clasping his knees convulsively. "How can I trust you if I can't even trust myself?"

Harry's breath slowed, and realisation flooded over him. Draco was trapped in his own past. It was only understandable. For him, the biggest mistake of his life was about to be repeated. He was confused. He didn't know what to rely on anymore, his own decisions seemed wrong, for they had led him to get attached to Harry. And Harry had been a mistake, at least in Draco's eyes.

"I meant every word I said to you. Even if you don't want to believe me, it's the truth." Harry took a deep breath. He doubted the explanation would help his case with Draco, but it was worth a try. "The bet or the competition, or whatever it was, it was a mistake. I thought at the time that I'd be doing Ron a favour by agreeing. He was satisfied and I didn't give it another thought. That was all. I wasn't using you, I would never be able to do that."

Draco looked at Harry sceptically. His arched brows furrowed, deep lines on his forehead. Draco didn't believe him. Harry saw it right away.

"Then why did you... Why did you even…" Draco shook his head, unable to find the right words. Harry understood him anyway.

Because behind all the arrogance, behind all the complacency and ambition, Draco was no less insecure than most. He hated vulnerability at least as much as Harry did. He wanted to be loved as much as Harry wanted to be loved, and was just as afraid of it. Draco only expressed it differently. Still, Harry understood. He also found it hard to believe that Draco could like him back as much as Harry liked him. It was surreal and beyond believability.

"What we have just sort of happened. I'm not going to lie, Ron came up with the bet because he knew that I'd... I don't know... that I'd like you? He's known me longer than most, and he wasn't wrong, obviously. Draco, the bet didn't motivate me to... initiate this between us."

Draco's face was frozen, confusion was visible in his eyes. "Then what did?"

"You," Harry heard himself say instantly. He felt the heat in his cheeks straight away. "I mean, I was completely fascinated by you from the start, you can't tell me you didn't notice that!"

Draco blinked away his frozen stare, a soft pink shimmer settled on his cheeks and he tucked a blond strand behind his ear. "Perhaps a little."

Harry snorted, scratched the back of his head in embarrassment and tried to withstand Draco's gaze.

"Does that mean you like me?" Draco asked, disbelief resonating in his voice.

Harry smiled weakly. "Of course I like you."

Something swelled in Harry's chest and Harry reached for Draco's hand on his knee out of pure reflex. The fingers were cool and smooth and just right. Harry had to control himself not to cheer when Draco didn't pull his hand away, only looked with wide eyes at Harry's golden-brown fingers that covered his. But that wasn't all. He hadn't even given the least.

_The least and everything Harry had._

"I don't just like you," Harry began hesitantly. His stomach rumbled and his heart pounded so hard in his chest he was certain Draco could hear every beat. "I never believed in love at first sight. It seemed like a silly fairy tale. Something you'd only find in one of those awfully gooey romances. But then I met you. The world didn't stop, you didn't even notice me, but still, it felt destined. Like fate was trying to bring us together."

Draco's mouth stood slightly open, his cheeks now tinted in bright red, his eyebrows furrowed, but his eyes glowed with such intensity that it drove Harry half-mad. Draco was speechless and Harry's heart turned somersaults because it had never felt so free before.

"I don't just like you, Draco. I'm falling in love with you."

The next thing Harry felt was something heavy, which hit him against the chest and pressed him backwards onto the forest ground. Harry gasped for air in surprise, but his breath was taken away by lips pressing against his own. Harry smelled vanilla, felt the warmth of a body on him and only heard the rush of his blood in his ears.

The kiss was both desperate and full of relief. Harry's glasses bumped against Draco's cheek, their tongues curled around each other as if they hadn't been together for years and their bodies melted into each other as if they were soft wax. The world around them held its breath for a moment, allowing them to find each other again. Giving them the chance to come back to themselves.

Draco was the first to break away. He didn't get up, however, and remained lying on Harry, looking at his face with such sincere gratitude that it sent shivers down Harry's spine. His hands found Draco's waist, held on to the warm body, he even ignored the need to brush the blond hair out of Draco's face. It tickled Harry on his cheek and completed the picture perfectly.

"You believe me, right?" Harry asked, looking for a hint of uncertainty in the grey eyes. It wouldn't have made sense not to believe Harry if it had only been for a bet, then he wouldn't have said all this.

Draco's hair bounced slightly while he nodded. Harry had never seen Draco so fascinated, it brought a gentle smile to his face. He raised his hand and pushed blond strands of hair behind Draco's ear. This beauty really did drive him out of his mind. His heart couldn't take it much longer either.

"You could’ve told me that a little earlier," Draco remarked, a smile touched the corners of his mouth.

"I'm sorry, I guess I had to admit it to myself first," Harry confessed and placed one hand on Draco's cheek. "Can I ask you something?"

Draco, his gaze firmly glued on Harry, nodded slightly.

"Why did you come here?"

Draco closed his eyes and nestled his head in Harry's hand while he answered. "I didn't want to be found."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Except by me?" The words left his lips before he could stop them. The question had its justification, after all, no one knew this place except Harry. But it was also rash, it may not have been wise to imply that Draco had _wanted_ to be found.

Draco opened his eyes again and frowned as he looked down at Harry and grasped the meaning of his words. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm still angry with you, Harry."

"I know. My feelings don't undo the bet," Harry agreed. He wasn't stupid enough to think a confession was enough to make Draco forget. But he had time, he would make up for what he'd done. As long as Draco looked at him this way, anything was possible.

Draco nodded slowly, followed the shape of Harry's lower lip tenderly with his thumb and then sighed. "It helps, though. Although I must admit, I'm not quite sure whether I want to slap or kiss you right now."

Harry grinned amused. Draco's affectionate look wasn't very intimidating. "I probably deserve that slap, but I'd still rather get kissed."

"Coward," Draco breathed to Harry's lips, bridging the distance between their mouths.

The sensation was intoxicating, Harry felt weightless, as if someone had lifted all the burden from his heart. It probably was that, it was simply incredible to open up to someone. And to be accepted. Draco's lips rewarded Harry in the sweetest way. Harry could have lied here forever, Draco's lips on his, not a breath of air could fit between their bodies.

Far too quickly, Draco broke away from the kiss again. With a smile, he nudged the tip of his nose against Harry's. "I told you I can be nice if I want to be."

The tingling in Harry's belly grew, Harry let his hand travel down to Draco's waist, looked into the grey eyes and tried hard not to get lost in the depths. His hand slipped lower, careful, not too hasty, always mindful of Draco's expression. He didn't know what he would have done if he'd lost Draco. Heavens, he didn't want to think of that.

Draco tilted his head as if he could read Harry's mind. "If you hadn't been such an arse, I would be even nicer to you," he said playfully, eliciting a protesting laugh from Harry.

A bark, not far away, silenced Harry. Wasn't that –

"HARRY? DRACO?", an unknown voice echoed through the forest.

"Oh fuck," Draco whispered, eyes widened in terror, and stared vaguely into the forest. "That's Mr Longbottom."

~

Mr Longbottom was a tall man with blond hair and a friendly smile on his face. He reminded Harry more of Neville than Mrs Longbottom. And apparently that was true of his character too. Mr Longbottom was not at all shy, but he was quiet and reserved. Draco whispered to Harry that they were lucky that Mr Longbottom had sought and found them and none of the others. On the other hand, his appearance meant that they were being looked for at all, and that meant that Draco's parents and possibly Sirius had most likely been informed.

Blaise and Neville were also present on the glade and were just getting out of an off-road car when Draco and Harry stepped out of the thicket with a guilty expression on their faces. The looks of the three men were marked with reproach and relief, Blaise cursed quietly but very vulgarly as he pulled Draco into a short hug, Harry was greeted by a cheerful Hedwig. For Neville and his father, the relief seemed to predominate, but Mr Longbottom still put on a stern face.

"Gentlemen, I hope you’re aware that there will be consequences!"

Draco and Harry exchanged a look, Draco took a noticeable effort not to look reproachful, but Harry was sure that the blond blamed him entirely for the dicey situation.

"You both knew you weren't allowed to leave the grounds without permission. You could have been injured and no one would have known where you were. You're lucky Hagrid saw you, and you're even luckier that Hedwig here..." Mr Longbottom pointed to the white dog. "– came our way. Apart from your safety, did it ever occur to you that you might have put your horses in imminent danger? Tied to the tree... I really expected more from you, Draco."

Harry made an effort not to stare embarrassed at his toes, which was harder than one might think. Draco instead lifted his chin challengingly but kept his lips carefully sealed.

"Neville, tell your mother we found them," Mr Longbottom instructed his son, who immediately turned away and pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket. His father turned to Harry and Draco again. "We were very close to informing your father, Draco. After the incident two years ago –"

"Mr Longbottom, it's my fault Draco even left the farm," Harry hurriedly interjected. He was unwilling to imagine how Mr Malfoy would react to his son's attempt to escape. "If there's anyone you need to inform, it's Sirius. I am willing to bear the full consequence!"

Mr Longbottom folded his arms across his chest and eyed Harry attentively for a moment. "It won't be necessary to inform your legal guardians. However, you’re excluded from the remainder of the horseback-riding holiday activities."

"Pardon me?" Draco’s eyes widened in horror.

There weren't many activities left. In fact, there was only one activity left. The Pony-Olympics. But this was the one in which the winner of the competition was determined. Draco and Harry's score difference would be caught up in no time. Mr Longbottom had just sentenced them to lose. It was hardly a drama for Harry, but Draco looked as if he was about to lose it.

"Consider yourselves lucky. My wife would have sent you home immediately, but I'm not Alice and Neville likes you," Mr Longbottom said calmly. Draco huffed, crossed his arms and pushed his lower lip forward. Harry was tempted to elbow him in the side. Draco tempted their luck with his sulking, but Mr Longbottom seemed at most amused by the sight of Draco.

"The Olympics already started anyway," Blaise remarked.

Mr Longbottom looked at his wristwatch in surprise and nodded. "That means we'd better hurry. Mount up, gentlemen, and no dawdling. Blaise, Neville, get in the car!"

The four young men didn't need to be asked twice and did as they were told.

~ 

About an hour later they were back on the courtyard. Mrs Longbottom was busy with the Pony-Olympics and limited her lecture to demanding that they have a serious talk later. Neville and Blaise had insisted on helping Mr Longbottom with the search, but now they were eager to attend the event and went to the stables to get their horses ready. Hedwig followed them tail-wagging and merely gave Harry the cold shoulder.

Mr Longbottom offered Harry and Draco the best seats at the riding arena and received a murderous look from Draco. He then suggested that they might as well just retire to their room for a while. Harry wanted to protest because he actually wanted to watch his friends, but Draco grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the guesthouse. From afar, Harry quickly waved at Ron and tried to signify to him that things were reasonably well again. Ron grinned, gave him a thumbs up and then went on to saddle his pony. Harry was a bit jealous, the event seemed indeed like a highlight.

"Can't we at least watch? There's a very slim chance that everyone will be lousy and we'll win after all," Harry tried as Draco pulled him down the hallway on the first floor to their room.

Draco pushed open the room door, let go of Harry's hand and turned to him as Harry closed the door behind them. "I don't care, I don't want to win anymore."

Harry's eyes grew wide. That was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be a joke. Did Draco ever for even a second not think about winning? If Harry thought about it that way, he probably had that morning. If he'd gone off to hide, he clearly had no intention of entering the event. One couldn't blame him, Harry couldn't have focused on this triviality either if he were in his place. The competition was a joke compared to what he had with Draco.

"Don't look at me like that," Draco replied to Harry's incredulous silence. He folded his arms across his chest and looked a bit indecisive. "Just be glad I'm not freaking out."

Harry tried a wry smile. "I am. Still... Who are you and what have you done to Draco?"

Draco rolled his eyes, noticeably fighting down the hint of a smile, and let Harry pull him into a loose embrace. The blond sank against Harry's chest, sighed at the crook of his neck and shoved a hand into Harry's hair. "Right now, I have more reasons to be happy. In a few days I'll probably want to strangle you for this, so enjoy your aliveness while you still have it."

Harry snorted, his arms only wrapped tighter around Draco's body. Of course, Draco blamed him, he expected no less. But he had also said that he was happy and that made Harry's heart skip a beat. There was nothing he wanted more than to see Draco happy. It made him feel like he was pursuing a higher purpose rather than just languishing.

"Although," Draco began slowly as he pulled away from the hug to slowly walk backwards towards his bed. "Come to think of it, the odds of Granger's team winning is frighteningly high. And that again means she beat me two years in a row. This is the greatest humilia–"

"How about we talk again about why you're happy right now?" Harry suggested, cutting Draco off. He kept standing in the doorway, almost feeling a bit lost without Draco in his arms. The latter just dropped onto his bed, his hair bouncing a little as he moved. He smiled mischievously at Harry, pulled his knees to his body and tilted his head.

"If you want to talk about it, you'll have to come over here."

Harry followed the invitation, his stomach area was tingling all of a sudden. He almost stopped himself in his movement but forced himself to keep walking towards Draco. Why was he nervous? It wasn't as if this was anything new, yet it suddenly felt like thin ice. He couldn't afford any more mistakes, he knew that. Almost devoutly, Harry sat down next to Draco on his bed, but not without keeping an appropriate safety distance.

Draco raised an eyebrow, the bloke seemed to be genuinely amused by Harry. He shifted demonstratively closer to Harry and looked at his face attentively. "If you want me to be truly happy, then sleep with me."

Harry blinked in surprise, that he hadn't expected, but Draco's face showed no signs of a joke. "Is that– I mean… are you sure?"

Draco's gaze lingered on Harry's lips, the furrowed eyebrows suggested he was a little confused about Harry's hesitation, yet he nodded and looked back into Harry's eyes.

Harry cleared his throat uneasily, the truth had been his best friend all day, he took it as a sign. "We, er...we don't have to. I don't want you to think that's all I care about." Draco's face was a single question mark and Harry scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "I don't want to lose you, okay? I'm willing to wait if you need time to forgive me."

"Oh," slipped out of Draco's mouth, he seemed to finally catch on. Realisation flickered through the pale grey, then made way for something else. Harry frowned, he read something devotional, something tender, something loving. It filled Harry's chest with warmth.

"Suddenly so chivalrous. Very interesting..." Draco leaned forward, entered Harry's carefully chosen safety distance with a disarming smile on his lips. "Harry, I _want_ you to sleep with me. As long as you want that too."

Something tightened in Harry's groin area in joyful anticipation, he almost moaned. Instead, his gaze fell on Draco's lips and he raised a hand timidly to place it on his cheek. "If you’re absolutely sure –"

"Oh my God, shut up," Draco groaned impatiently, dug his fingers into Harry's shirt collar and pressed his lips against Harry's with a little too much verve. 

Harry made a surprised sound, Draco used the opportunity to lick into Harry's mouth and deepen their kiss. Harry's skin burned under Draco's touch, the lust spread like fire in his veins. The familiar dizziness clouded Harry's mind, all he could feel was Draco.

Draco's scent, his heat, his long fingers in Harry's hair, his body desperately clinging to Harry's and almost causing him to fall. How could he have risked all this, how could he have thought for even half a second about keeping the truth to himself? As if this wasn't all he had ever wanted.

Draco drew back, holding on to Harry's shoulders as he swung one leg over Harry and straddled Harry's lap without further ado. Harry's gaze lay only on Draco's face, so beautifully framed by blond, divine hair. Draco's rosy lips curled into a smile, he brushed Harry's lips feather-light with his own, let one hand skim to Harry's crotch at the same time and began to rub the slight bulge in Harry's trousers.

Harry moaned, his eyes closed, his hands found Draco's thighs and eagerly moved up and down. It didn't take long before it became clearly too tight in Harry's trousers, he felt the smug smile on Draco's lips, but the hunger in him made him forget to be embarrassed. Instead, he kissed Draco properly, gave in to the game of their tongues and desperately tried not to think about Draco's hand on his crotch.

And then the hand suddenly disappeared and Harry made a protesting sound into the kiss. Draco didn't let himself be distracted, just slid closer to Harry and began to circle his hips agonizingly slow but deliciously hot. Harry's mouth fell open, he grabbed Draco's arse to pull him even closer and returned Draco's hip movement as best he could while sitting.

The friction didn't help Harry's condition in the slightest, instead, it only got tighter in his trousers and Harry couldn't suppress the wheezing. Draco's lips moved along Harry's jaw, his fingers running up Harry's upper arms, over his shoulders and down his back. Blond strands of hair tickled Harry's cheek, driving him half-mad.

"Harry," Draco breathed, the movement of his hip became steadily faster, Harry was convinced he was about to explode. "There's something I – Oh!" Harry's hand on Draco's arse went lower and slid between Draco's legs. "– wanted to try," Draco finished his sentence with more or less dignity.

Clearly too hazy, Harry just nodded dazedly and mumbled a half-mute "Anything you want" with his eyes closed. As long as Draco didn't stop with this, everything was fine with him. The sweet friction catapulted him into seventh heaven already, Draco's heated body against his was enough to make his blood boil over.

Without stopping the circling movement of his hips, Draco leaned back a little in Harry's lap to take off his shirt. It only increased the pressure on Harry's erection, he gasped in surprise and opened his eyes. Draco's naked chest was a sight worth every bead of sweat, Harry's fingers instinctively trailed to the slender waist, but Draco pushed his hands away impatiently.

Taking the hint, Harry pulled his own shirt off, then let Draco push him against the mattress onto his back and protested when Draco sat down next to Harry and simply dismissed his hard bulge. Draco ignored him, hurriedly pushed the trousers off his legs, then turned back to Harry and helped him take off his own trousers while still lying down. His erection thanked Harry for the sudden freedom but longed for Draco's warmth. While Harry was still letting the jeans and boxers drop to the floor next to him, Draco crawled between Harry's legs, held his hair in his neck with one hand, grabbed Harry's cock with the other and began to jerk his loose fist.

Harry moaned, pushed his hips towards Draco and squeezed his eyes shut. Draco's touch was a pure gift from heaven, he would never get enough of the long fingers. Increasing the pressure, Draco moved his hand more nimbly and just as Harry was about to beg for more, Draco closed his lips around Harry's tip. His tongue slid along the slit, licking up the pre-come, and caressed the pulsating vein. Harry's breath stopped, he reached for Draco's hair with one hand and found Draco's fingers there.

Draco raised his head, his breath was quick, his lips and cheeks glowing in a beautiful red, the sight alone could have finished Harry off. But Draco loosened the grip around Harry's erection and he bent over Harry's body and on to his bed stand. A little confused and definitely unsatisfied, Harry was about to complain, but then his gaze fell on the small tube Draco fished out of the drawer and he froze.

"Here," Draco murmured and dropped the tube on Harry's chest, Harry kept staring at the label with wide eyes. Draco placed a condom next to the tube, then sat up and began tying a high ponytail at breakneck speed. Harry wasn't sure whether to continue staring at the tube in perplexity or enjoy the seductive sight. Draco was anything but tidy, primarily he just rushed, causing all the shorter wisps of hair to fall out of the ponytail and fall back into his face. As soon as the hair tie was where Draco wanted it, his gaze fell on Harry's face. "Something wrong?"

Harry blinked away the frozen stare and then picked up the tube of lube with two fingertips. An amused grin spread on Draco's face. "Those who know how to give should also know how to take."

Harry's jaw dropped and something contracted in his stomach area, he couldn't tell whether it was joyful anticipation or fear. It could be both. "I –" he started, but was interrupted by Draco, who leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"If you don't want to, we don't have to do it. But I think you would like it," Draco breathed to Harry's lips, his words heated Harry's cheeks. Holy shit, it was definitely joyful anticipation _and_ fear.

Draco looked bidingly at Harry's face, casually bit his lip and simultaneously wrapped one hand around Harry's erection. Oh God, how could he have said no? "Okay? I mean, I think – Yeah, okay."

Draco's smile broadened, he placed another kiss on the corner of Harry's mouth, something predatory twinkled in his eyes. Then Draco kissed his way down Harry's neck, over his chest, his stomach, down the trail of dark fine hair from his navel to Harry's erection. Harry let his head drop into the pillow and he held on to the bedpost above him to stop himself from grabbing Draco and pressing him against the mattress.

He could feel the throbbing between his legs, was only seconds away from whimpering for release, but he bit his tongue. He listened to the sound of a tube being opened, Draco bent Harry's knee, certainly but gently, and then there was something cool and slippery on Harry's cock that made him gasp.

Draco's fingers only briefly brushed over his erection, Harry was convinced that he wouldn't have been able to stand it for long anyway. Instead, Draco's fingers wandered down past Harry's balls to the sensitive skin at his entrance. Draco's fingers moved slowly, almost reverently massaging the slippery gel into the wrinkled skin.

Harry's heart raced, he was certain his body was on fire. Every touch, no matter how faint, sent a wave of lust into Harry's erection, his breath went shallow and uneven. "Draco," Harry gasped, spreading his legs even wider and reaching for blond hair with one hand. "Let me – _Fuck!_ Let me kiss you. _Please_." 

Harry didn't dare to open his eyes but he could feel Draco's body heat, the hair tickling his cheek as soon as Draco was at eye level with him. Harry's lips found Draco's, he desperately sucked on his tongue, felt his legs tremble with anticipation. Draco's free hand found Harry's cheek, he caressed it soothingly and then Draco pressed a finger against Harry's hole and sank into the depth.

The feeling made Harry pant. It was strange, not bad, but also not as groundbreaking as he had expected. It was a little bit uncomfortable, but he quickly got used to it. Draco left his hand unmoved, Harry didn't have to open his eyes to know that Draco was studying every reaction on his face. He frowned and opened his eyes, as expected, he was met by grey eyes.

"Okay?"

Harry nodded slowly, his gaze flitted to Draco's lips. "Can you –"

Before Harry could ask his question, Draco moved his finger deeper, tentatively and as if he was trying to feel for something. Harry gasped and closed his eyes, that was good. In no way painful, as he had feared. Draco's finger slipped smoothly out of him, another finger sank into Harry and caused him to tighten his grip around Draco's body in surprise. Still no pain, but he could feel the burn of the stretch and Draco still groped as if –

_"Oh!”_

Draco had found what he was looking for. Without warning, a wave of lust shot through Harry's body and gathered at his midst. It made his legs quiver and his face flushed with sweat.

"Tell me what that feels like," Draco breathed at Harry's lips, his forehead pressed against Harry's.

" _Good_ ," Harry managed and moaned uncontrollably as Draco continued to massage the spot.

"Just good?”

"I – _Fuck!"_ Harry pushed his hips towards Draco's hand and his legs twitched. It was better than good. It was better than groundbreaking. It was just indescribable. Draco's lips found Harry's, the man moaned and whimpered into the kiss. His erection ached from restraint, Harry grabbed Draco's waist firmly and pulled him closer.

Harry's hips jerked rhythmically, causing delicious friction of his erection against Draco's stomach, the lube did its job. "Draco, I – I can't take it much longer", Harry groaned, kept thrusting his hips towards Draco who continued to massage his sweet spot. Something gathered in Harry's groin area, preparing to lash through his entire body. Harry only managed to lift his chin and catch Draco's lips with his own, then the orgasm struck him like lightning.

Like fireworks the feeling spread to Harry's tiptoes, his body tensed and then melted into the mattress underneath him. He breathed heavily, stars danced in front of his closed eyelids and he only slowly came back to breath. As if through fog, he felt Draco gently kissing his cheeks and soothingly rubbing Harry's trembling hips with both hands. Very slowly the fog cleared and gave way to reality. _"Fuck!"_

Draco laughed softly. " _That_ good, huh? I'll take that as a 'thank you'." He sat up on Harry's thighs and used the blanket to wipe the remains of Harry's orgasm off his and Harry's stomach. Harry closed his eyes with relish, floating on the fading feeling of his orgasm. "Don't fall asleep, Harry. The 'sleep with me'-part hasn't yet been fulfilled.”

Harry made a surprised sound when Draco closed his hand around his oversensitive cock. Draco's impatience was written all over his face, so Harry propped himself on his elbows, curled his toes and allowed the new wave of lust to take over his body unhindered. Draco's gaze lay spellbound on Harry's cock, which hardened completely within minutes, the blond gave Harry a triumphant look. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, Draco had an effect on him like no other.

With deft fingers, Draco rolled the condom onto Harry's erection, then climbed on Harry's lap and positioned it. Before Draco could lower himself onto Harry, Harry straightened up, kissed those seductive lips, wrapped one arm around the slim body and let his other hand wander between Draco's legs. Draco sighed contentedly into the kiss and moved against Harry's fingers. He felt wet and more than ready.

"Tell me again what you told me in the forest," Draco asked in a silky voice, his hips constantly thrusting towards Harry's fingers, his hands buried in his dark hair.

Harry blinked, completely dazed by all the stimulation. "What do you mean?"

Draco groaned impatiently, kissed Harry once more, bit his lower lip as if he could punish him like that. "You _know_ what I mean."

And then, indeed, Harry realised it and a knowing grin spread on his face. " _Ohhh_ , you mean that thing about me falling in lo–" The sentence was interrupted by a moan. Draco had lowered himself onto Harry's erection without a warning and now pressed his lips pleadingly against Harry. Because Draco didn't move and was only whimpering softly, Harry grabbed Draco's waist and began to thrust gently into Draco as best as possible.

Draco whined, dropped his head onto the crook of Harry’s neck and clung to his shoulder. He responded to the movement, rotating his hips and cursing softly with every little thrust of Harry.

"Does – Does that turn you on? To hear that I'm falling in lov–" Harry didn't get any further, Draco pressed his fingers on Harry's mouth, breathing heavily, and cut off his voice and air.

"If you want this to – to last longer than two minutes, then – then shut up now," Draco managed to get out, gasping.

Harry's blood boiled, his erection almost hurt from the stimulation, he wasn't sure if _he_ would reach the two-minute mark. In that moment, caught in desire, lust and passion, Harry knew he had done everything right. That he was falling in love with the right man, that he wouldn't let Draco leave again. The irrepressible need to scream it out into the world was building in him.

"Draco, I want – I want to be with you."

Draco's hips jerked, his hands clawed painfully into Harry's hair and he moaned as if Harry had just given him the best rush. "I – I'm falling in love with you too, Harry," he stammered into the crook of Harry’s neck and Harry froze in his motion.

"What?"

"God, don't stop," Draco pleaded, pressing his lips against Harry's, but Harry didn't move a millimetre. Gaze fixed on Draco's face, he tried to figure out if he had just imagined Draco's words.

"Say that again?" Harry asked, his heart couldn't have beaten faster.

" _Harry_ ," Draco complained, making rocking movements with his hips.

Harry's body was frozen. He had to hear it again, he had to be absolutely sure. Then he would give Draco everything, he just needed that little sentence one more time. "Please?"

Draco groaned surrenderingly, straightened up, returned Harry's gaze with grey eyes burning with longing and fear. "I like you, Harry," he began, his hand massaging dark hair at the back of his neck. "So much, I think – No, I know I'm falling in love with you too."

Harry's mind shut down, his heart erupted in pure euphoria. "Does that mean... Do you want to be with me, Draco? Like, officially dating and beyond the summer?"

A little smile tugged up the corner of Draco’s mouth. "Yes, officially dating and – _Harry!"_

Draco gasped perplexed when he was grabbed by the hips and pressed on his back against the mattress. But Harry forgot to apologise for his roughness, pressed his lips against Draco's, as if there was nothing more important, and thrust into the wet tightness that gratefully took him in.

It left Harry breathless, his intuition took over for him and made his hips move in a hard rhythm while his heart danced in seventh heaven. Draco wrapped his legs around Harry, his head fell on the sheet and his eyes rolled back. Another thrust and Draco came, clenching tightly around Harry's erection, which finally tipped him over the edge.

With Draco's name on his lips, Harry's body jerked helplessly, bolts of lightning shot through his veins, now for the second time and he slumped heavily breathing against Draco's body. Completely overwhelmed, he lay on Draco, inhaled the scent of vanilla, watched blond wisps of hair flutter under his breath and waited for his body to get used to reality again.

~

It was dark, warm and comfortable. Peacefulness lay softly upon Harry, the tingling in his stomach area woke Harry up like cool morning dew. Slowly and thoughtfully the veil of sleep lifted off him and gave him the opportunity to slowly approach the present. He smelled vanilla, of course, but also far away grilled food. Instantly, Harry's stomach rumbled and his mouth watered. Hunger pushed him to wake up faster.

Harry first heard the quiet noises coming from the courtyard, laughter of people, the neighing of a horse, even the chirping of birds reached his ear, but there was more. It was an unusual sound, accompanied by a very familiar sound. It was the sound of a pencil scribbling on paper, paired with the regular breaths of Draco.

Draco. Draco, who reciprocated Harry's feelings, who liked him as much as Harry liked him. His heart instantly beat harder in his chest, it sent a slight rush of adrenaline through his body and woke him up completely. With a yawn, Harry opened his eyes and blinked at the evening sun that shone into their room. A chuckle from the footboard of the bed caught his attention.

Draco, the breathtakingly beautiful bastard, sat leaning against the bedpost next to Harry's feet, held his sketchbook in his hands and also a pencil. His hair was a little tousled but loose, his teeth were buried in his lower lip and his eyes flitted back from Harry to the paper in front of him. The blanket covered his centre, his chest and legs were still completely exposed. As exposed as Harry felt and apparently was. A look down confirmed his feeling. He lay completely naked in Draco's bed and was entirely at his mercy.

"Evening. Sleep well?" Draco asked, a smile emerging on his forbidden sweet lips. Harry grumbled something incomprehensible and pulled a bit of the blanket over his exposed centre. Draco chuckled again. "Nothing that I haven't seen before. No false modesty."

Harry ignored the blond, yawned extensively instead and sat up in bed. He put his glasses on, wondered when the hell he'd fallen asleep and, looking at his mobile phone display, realised that it was already seven o'clock in the evening. The scribbling didn't stop, so Harry moved clumsily to Draco's side and tried to catch a glimpse of the sketchbook. What he saw before Draco closed the book noisily made Harry grimace.

"Seriously?"

Draco beamed happily at him, he dropped the book beside the bed and shoved one hand in hopelessly unruly, dark hair. "I told you you have a beautiful cock." Harry shook his head but had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

"Besides," Draco added. "I'll need a reminder of your prick for when you return to London."

"Oh, right." Harry had completely blocked out the fact that he was leaving the very next morning. A little bitterness settled over the sweet peacefulness.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "That's not all that dramatic. Long-distance relationships have their advantages. I’ll pine after your body for weeks on end and when you finally _take me_ , I'll –"

"Holy shit, are you even listening to yourself?" Harry interrupted him and looked distrustfully at his barely covered crotch. Dirty talk wasn't something he could be indifferent to. "Also, who said _weeks?_ We can talk on the phone. And text. And I'll come and visit you as often as I can."

Draco smirked. "Which means I'll actually have to get a phone, I'm fairly disgusted." He thoughtfully swayed his head back and forth. "If you're expecting me to send you nudes, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you."

Harry laughed and pulled Draco closer to him at the waist. "A wise decision and I'm pretty sure you'll learn to love the art of sexting faster than I will."

Draco tilted his head, an enchanting smile touched the corners of his mouth and he gave Harry a featherlight kiss on the lips. "If you're trying to imply that I'm more desperate than you are, I reject all accusations."

"No, not more desperate," Harry replied, drawing Draco closer for a longer kiss and smiled pleased. A pale hand dropped out of Harry's hair and instantly wandered to Harry's crotch, eliciting a protesting gasp from Harry. "Round three? For real?"

Draco removed his hand from Harry's crotch and pushed his lower lip barely noticeably forward. "Technically, it's just the second round for me."

Harry bit his tongue so as not to laugh at the sight of Draco sulking. "Okay, okay, just give me... five minutes to properly wake up."

Draco raised an eyebrow as if he didn't quite trust Harry, then something warm twinkled in his eyes and he kissed Harry again. Tenderly and lovingly and just the way Harry wanted to be kissed forever. There was no doubt, the relationship would work out. He couldn't imagine ever letting go of the blond, his heart had long been lost.

"Harry? Draco?" The door swung open and slammed against the wall. " _Oh my God_ , you're naked!"

As quickly as Ginny had appeared in the doorway, she turned around again and slapped both hands over her eyes. Harry, who was sure he had just suffered a heart attack, stared open-mouthed from the back of Ginny's head back at Draco, who had turned bright red and pulled the entire blanket over himself. The bit that covered Harry's crotch, Harry held on to before Draco could claim it for himself as well.

"You know, _knocking_ is a concept that exists," Harry remarked, as soon as he had recovered from his shock.

"Don't worry, I'll certainly _never_ enter _any_ room again without knocking," Ginny promised, keeping her eyes covered. "Actually, I just came to get you. Food is ready and the trophy will be awarded."

"Great, then you can leave now. We're not coming," Draco decided, earning a surprised look from Harry. Apart from the award ceremony, he was genuinely hungry, Draco surely couldn't be so sadistic. Draco's expression suggested that he could most certainly be so sadistic and made Harry refrain from protesting. 

"But you _have_ to be there," Ginny protested instead.

"There's no way I'll be congratulating Granger and Weasley!" Draco seemed certain and not like he was open for discussion.

Ginny groaned annoyed, she remained turned away from them but placed her hands on her hips. "Ron and Hermione didn't win. _You_ bloody fools won!" 

" _What?"_ Draco would have fallen out of bed if Harry hadn't grabbed him.

"You mean 'pardon'," Harry whispered to him. Draco jammed his elbow into his side.

"Yeah, well," Ginny began slowly. "We all won at the Olympics so that in the end, nobody exceeded your score. It wasn't easy, if Theo wasn't that good at maths, we -"

"But _why?"_ Draco interrupted her. Harry had never seen the blond so bewildered.

"I honestly don't even know," Ginny admitted shrugging. "It was Ron and Hermione's idea. The rest of us only agreed to it because we’re doing this _for fun_. No normal person is that _obsessed_ with winning, no offence to you..."

"Granger and Weasley," Draco breathed and stared at Harry with wide eyes. Was that what Draco's speechlessness looked like? If so, it was the most adorable thing Harry had ever seen.

"I think that's their way of apologising?" Harry tried, suppressing with all his might the need to burst out laughing.

Draco turned even paler. "I hate them!"

"What?" Ginny and Harry asked simultaneously in surprise.

"No, you don't understand. That means I have to _forgive_ them. It means I have to express _gratitude_. _Oh God_ , it means I have to call them by their _first names!_ " Draco buried his face in his hands and seemed to be going through some kind of inner crisis.

"Um, Harry," Ginny said, Harry could practically see her frown. "Are you _quite_ sure Draco is the one?"

"Oh, shut _up_ ," Draco hissed, then threw a pillow in Ginny's direction, which missed her by miles.

Harry could no longer suppress his laughter and he wrapped his arms around Draco's waist to keep him from throwing himself at Ginny. Draco glared at him, but not a drop of bad blood could be seen in the bright grey. Only hope and an unhealthy portion of happiness, Harry was able to read, it infected him instantly and his heart thumped harder in his chest. Draco, _Him_ , was the one.

"Yes, absolutely sure."

~~~

_Seven weeks later..._

It was an amazingly pleasant September day, the sun was beaming down from the sky with endurable temperatures, white clouds appeared only sporadically on a blue sky and a cool wind caressed Harry's skin as if it wanted to introduce itself shyly. Harry relaxed and inhaled the air while climbing the steps to the large oak door of the Malfoy Manor. His heart beat fiercely against his rips, his stomach welcomed the dozens of centipedes to another marathon.

Before Harry could put his finger on the bell, the door flew open and less than two seconds later something heavy hit Harry's chest. Surprised, Harry stumbled back a step, caught himself again, wrapped his arms around the body and pulled Draco closer to his chest. Hell, he had missed him so much, the thrill of reunion never really diminished.

"You're late," Draco pointed out, slightly drawing back from the hug. He eyed Harry attentively, tugged at his jacket and raised one eyebrow. "Leather? Are you trying to turn me on even _more?"_

Harry's cheeks grew hot, but he wasn't able to return anything right now. Draco looked breathtaking. He was wearing pastel blue loose-fitting shorts and a floaty white shirt, which flattered his physique in a forbidden way. The clothes reminded him in a delightful way of Draco's choice of clothes at Harry's birthday. Draco's skin was pale as always, with a pink shimmer on his cheeks, which he only got when Harry was present. The grey eyes twinkled with expectation and anticipation. Draco wore his hair down, except for the top portion of his hair, which he wore in a braid. Had Harry not spontaneously frozen into a pillar of salt, he would have confessed his eternal love to Draco here and now.

"Harry?" Draco snapped his finger in front of Harry’s face and gave him an enchanting smile.

"You look incredible," Harry finally managed to say. Draco practically melted in Harry's arms at the compliment. He slid his hands to Harry's nape, drew him closer and gently placed his lips on Harry's. Each of Draco's kisses set off fireworks in Harry, but a kiss after days or weeks of abstinence was like pouring gasoline into fire.

"I missed you," Harry whispered at Draco's lips, the blond sighed contentedly and kissed Harry again. With more passion this time, he pressed his body closer against Harry's and willingly opened his lips to allow Harry's tongue to enter. Harry's hands clasped Draco's waist, he inhaled with relish. Draco's scent was intoxicating as always.

Distinctly loud coughing made the two flinch and interrupted the kiss. The front door was still wide open and offered a view of the entrance area and a high hallway inside the manor. At the end of the hallway stood Mr Malfoy, a wine glass in his hands, which threatened to shatter under the pressure of the white protruding knuckles.

Again the man cleared his throat, Draco and Harry had only interrupted the kiss and hadn’t otherwise moved further apart. "I must _beg_ your pardon. On my property, there are certain rules which –"

"Keep your countenance, darling," a bright voice interrupted Mr Malfoy and Narcissa, Draco's mother also appeared at the end of the hallway. She placed a hand on her husband's upper arm in warning and smiled politely towards the front door. "Bring our Draco back safely, Harry!"

"Uh, yes, of course, Mrs Malfoy," Harry replied baffled.

Draco rolled his eyes, hurried to the front door and closed it with a bit more gusto than necessary. "They're unbelievable. Come on, we don't want to miss the whole party!"

Harry had indeed been a little late, which had been entirely Sirius' fault. After all, he had bothered Harry for at least two hours about not being able to choose an outfit for his own date with Remus, who was visiting London for the weekend. Harry had somehow managed to get rid of Sirius, but a delay had been unavoidable.

Draco took Harry's hand and led him up the driveway of the manor. Harry enjoyed the sight of Draco's back at least as much as his front. The sun made Draco's blond hair gleam, the wind blew against the loose clothing and gave them a feeling of weightlessness.

At Harry's scooter, Draco came to a halt and turned to him. "Is Ron going to be there?"

Harry nodded and handed Draco a helmet. "He’ll finally ask her out today. He's even crafted a present for her. If this goes well, she must _genuinely_ like him."

Draco grimaced while he tilted his head thoughtfully. "Does he have another birthday present in case he chickens out like he did the last five times? Hurray to Hermione's patience, I'd have dumped him for all his cowardice long ago!"

"Hey!" Harry complained, Ron was still his best friend. "You better get off your high horse. If I remember correctly, _I_ did all the work for us and all you had to do was say yes and amen!"

Draco raised a challenging eyebrow. "First of all, please don’t tell me any more horse jokes, Blaise is making enough of them, and secondly, I literally promised you I'd say ‘ _yes and amen’_ if you’d ask me."

Harry folded his arms across his chest and tried to look as challenging as Draco, he failed and probably looked more like a lovesick, defiant fool. "A few _things_ happened between your promise and my question. I'm terribly sorry I didn't automatically assume that you'd still want me."

Draco chuckled, leaned in and breathed a kiss to Harry's lips. "Oh right, I distinctly remember your cock inside me. I must have seemed _very_ reluctant to the idea."

Harry's cheeks became hot and he squeezed his mouth shut so as not to laugh. Instead, he put on his helmet and made an inviting gesture to his scooter. "Just for the record: I'm going to ignore that comment and ask your highness to kindly move your pretty arse and take a seat!"

A mischievous smile spread over Draco's mouth and spilt into his eyes. "Fine, mon amour. But only because you're hot when you get flustered."

Harry deliberately rolled his eyes, the helmet, fortunately, covered his beaming smile well enough. He got on the scooter and waited patiently until Draco wrapped his arms around his stomach and he was ready to drive off. The wind was blowing in his face, Harry felt Draco nestle closer to him, he sighed softly and liberated.

This was probably that happy ending that everyone always raved about and the best thing about it was that it wasn't an ending. It was just the beginning and that made Harry feel like he'd finally arrived. It was a journey, but with Draco at his side, everything felt like home.

Because, rest assured, in a world where there is no magic school, no evil wizards, no game of life and death, simply _no magic_ , Harry has found his very own magic in Draco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge THANK YOU to Larni, who helped me a lot with the evil monster, that is English grammar, and who's the absolute BEST! <3 Love you, sweetheart!
> 
> Time for art: I got to commission the very best Pauleonotis on Tumblr and she drew two STUNNING pieces for this fic! Enjoy some sweet tender love and some spICE:  
> First one: https://pauleonotis.tumblr.com/post/629798794710712320/finally-i-can-share-these-commissions-d?is_related_post=1  
> Second one: https://pauleonotis.tumblr.com/post/629798889830105088/aaand-a-commission-22-of-one-of-my-many
> 
> AND there's another incredible artwork drawn by datsiro on Tumblr: https://datsiro.tumblr.com/post/631719148697927680/covid-in-the-back-be-like-am-i-a-joke-to-you
> 
> That's it. Project "Let Harry drool and suffocate on fluff" is hereby FINISHED. Enjoyed it. My next project will have to break my (and everyone's) heart tho, that was entirely too much fluff, I NEED PAIN!


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